


You Put the Sun in Sunday

by larryent



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American Football Player Harry Styles, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asshole Harry, Bookworm Louis, Boston, Bottom Louis, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Bully Harry Styles, Cliche, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Crying Harry, Crying Louis, Endgame Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Frat Boy Harry Styles, Gaslighting, Hospital Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Jock Harry Styles, Louis Has a Crush, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mpreg, Mpreg Louis, Nerd Louis, Oral Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Louis Tomlinson, Pregnant Sex, Sad Louis Tomlinson, Sad with a Happy Ending, Smut, Soft Louis Tomlinson, Soft people deserve soft things, The Sunday Fic, Top Harry, Unhealthy Relationships, quiet louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-10-06 21:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryent/pseuds/larryent
Summary: AKA “The Sunday Fic”Louis is a love-brainwashed-teenager of hope drenched in dreams, clad in oversized clothes damaged with holes, and standing waist-high in novels. Harry is a selfish closeted football captain with a head too big for his heart, and a bad habit of not thinking before he opens his mouth. No one ever said love was easy, Louis learned the hard way.larryent october 2019Do not repost/steal my work.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! this is for the HL Mpreg Fest 2019 on AO3 !
> 
> i hope i did this prompt justice and that everyone enjoys it ! this would have had more smut if i didn't spend so much time writing angst.
> 
> WARNINGS:  
\- unhealthy relationship at the beginning  
\- smut (only in epilogue)  
\- male pregnancy (Louis)  
\- soft babie louis !!!  
\- asshole!harry  
, he dates a o/f/c  
\- angst
> 
> **Important: In the beginning, the relationship portrayed in this story is not healthy and Louis is not good to himself. You might hate this story or the characters.**
> 
> P.S. get ready to be frustrated :^)

[Spotify playlist link](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0S748EwPz4gWzS22zzq3Yy?si=8omuWFD0Q6yzUWjwExmN6A)

* * *

Louis was sick. He was really sick. To the point where he has a humidifier plugged in on the highest setting, he sleeps next to his trash can, tissue box and a tub of coconut oil to soothe his red and dry nose. He sneezes again for the fifth time and collapses onto his tiny twin bed, he hears his roommate murmur something in his sleep before twisting in his sheets and facing the wall.

His dorm was nothing special, dressers, and a shared desk for both him and his roommate's laptops. The walls were painted a soft yellow, and one window stacked with Louis’ prized novels and plants on the sill. Louis blows his nose and drops the tissue into the trash bin before flipping the page of the book in his lap, squinting from the tiny flashlight providing a small glimmer of light and pushing his glasses further on the tip of his cherry nose.

He hears the humidifier bubble and coughs into his hand. Letting out a small sigh, he continues reading in the darkness of his dorm room on a Tuesday night. 

* * *

Two days later, on Thursday, Louis leaves his hall with a red thermos clenched in his hand and a tissue box in the other. He sniffles and is welcomed by the warm November air, the refreshing autumn breeze filing through his short fluffy hair and gracing along his feverish skin. He’s wearing a large brown turtleneck and a red knit cardigan, and a pair of black corduroys, which are his favourite kind of pants. His feet tucked into an old pair of loafers. 

All his clothes were too large by at least two sizes, they were all worn out and some had holes in them. Louis was aware of his messy attire, he tried to hide each hole or stubborn stain behind the layers. He bought almost all of his clothes from the local thrift store, it was the only option in his price range with the added price of his essentials. He gets money sent over not so often and his job at the campus library has helped out a bit, allowing him to splurge once a month on food and books that aren’t from the second-hand store, they were new shiny books with no creases or water stains. The rest of the money he saves in his bank account. He liked his stretched out clothes, they weren’t the prettiest to look at but they were what he had.

Thanks to his sickness, he needs to start budgeting to pay for his medicine and supply of tissue boxes.

“You know, whatever you have is probably highly contagious.”

Louis rolls his eyes, facing his friend with a quirk in his lip. “Then, I hope I infect you as soon as possible.”

The brunet laughs, tucking his chin into the collar of his denim jacket and softly nudges Louis’ shoulder. “Please do, Professor Night isn’t the gem you say he is.”

The two begin walking to their next lecture hall which was on the West side of campus. “Joseph is one of the best professors on campus. Not to mention is extensive knowledge on classic English literature. How he can speak so passionately about any novel published in the late fifties to now. You’d think he was at least two decades older than he is—”

“Don’t call him that.” Liam interrupts and shudders. “Don’t talk about him like that either. It’s weird.”

Louis cackles but coughs roughly into a tissue. “He tells everyone to call him that and I’m simply defending my favourite professor.”

“You’re only saying that because he lets you write anything you want for the campus paper.”

The smaller of the two shrugs with a knowing grin on his lips. “Boston University newspaper is the number one media outlet on campus, and you know what’s second?”

“Is it the bulletin board?”

  
“It’s the bulletin board.” Louis frowns deeply. “Stupid board can’t catch up to me and my journalist team.”

“Your standards are rock bottom if you’re putting all this effort into competing with a corkboard covered in tutoring and looking-for-roommate flyers,” Liam adds a small skip to his step. “And by journalist team you mean a bunch of geeks who wear suits to class because they’re anchors for the campus news, Zayn, your roommate and Patricia, the girl with the largest stamp collection I’ve ever seen.”

Louis crosses his arms as best he can with a tissue box and thermos in both hands. “You have no clue how much work goes on behind the scenes. You don’t know how many people are in a room at once just to record the news for the next morning that shows on those televisions no one sees.” Louis knew the struggle of being the media of Boston University. 

The all-nighters he’s pulled when he needs to write an article for the next day or edit a script for the news forecast scheduled for the next morning. No one even watches the school news channel, when Louis asked a couple of students if they were aware of the channel, a good percentage of them said they had no idea there was a journalist team. 

“Zayn has a nice camera, you’ve seen his work and Patricia collects coins too. Those will be worth a lot of money one day.” The two weave themselves through the crowded intersection of students, and Louis wraps his arms tightly around himself trying not to touch anyone. “There’s also a significant amount of lost items. I saw a poster about a welcome mat. Who would steal a welcome mat?”

“Obviously someone who isn’t welcomed.”

Louis inwardly groans. Liam’s humour was the worst. They’ve been close friends since Louis walked into highschool, meeting a skinny and curly-haired Liam who was a sophomore. Once Liam graduated high school, leaving Louis alone in the prison lined with lockers and posters about “saving the world”, and forcing Louis to maneuver his way to the end of his senior year. Even though Louis was taking a summer semester, hence where he met Dr. Night, the two proceeded to spend the summer at Liam’s house in the basement eating their weight in popsicles and fast food. Even in the comfort of Liam’s basement for two months, there was no way of getting used to the brunet’s colourful personality. 

Liam swings an arm around Louis’ shoulder before stepping away and making a face. “You smell like Vicks and,” he leans closer, “Benadryl. Did you chug the whole bottle?”

“No.” Louis frowns and takes the collar of his shirt to bring it up to his nose. “Do I really smell like that?”

“You reek of it. I think I’m getting lightheaded.”

The shorter of the two scoffs and blows his nose. Making a face when his eyes water and his ears pop.

Liam merely observes with a wrinkle in his nose. “What time does your shift start?”

Louis groans, normally he would be overjoyed with the opportunity to go to his favourite place but today, with his pounding headache and sore joints, he simply wants to wallow in his dim dorm room under pounds of tissues. “I start at six until closing.” Louis worked at the campus library. The two-story building with confusing twists and turns was his second home. He spent most of his free time in the library, with his nose buried in books in the very back corner on the second floor next to the largest window. He found more comfort in the library than his own dorm.

“Maybe you should stay in your dorm,” Liam suggests, taking a tissue from the box in the crook of Louis’ arm and uses the corner of it to poke Louis’ face. 

“I can’t.” Louis shakes his head and moves away from Liam’s irritating poking. “I haven’t missed one day of work, and I’m not going to start now.”

“What about the Christmas headline? The 12 Days of Christmas?” Liam asks.

“I don’t want to think of that right now.” Louis usually loved the Christmas season because of his birthday and the fairytale aura it brought around. Patricia had warned him about Dr. Night’s holy grail of the Christmas headline. Since Louis was a freshman, it was expected that Dr. Night would make him the sole author of the headline to test his skills. Louis shivers at the thought, it was only his first year and being tasked with such a huge project wasn’t going to be easy. 

Patricia was kind enough to give him a list of things to write about, he was thankful even though one of them was to research the average snowfall height in Boston. He’s lucky that the snow is expecting to fall late this year, hopefully, Dr. Night will forget about the report since it still feels like autumn. He pouts, with big blue eyes. “I just wrote two full pages about Thanksgiving, most of my search history is about turkeys, squash and Pilgrims.”

* * *

Louis’ eyes flow over each word, reading with an obsession as his fingers tightened around the pages. He eagerly flips the page and kicks up his feet, sniffling softly. He is so absorbed in his novel that he fails to hear the bell ringing on the front desk. He jumps out of his seat, a worn-out leather loveseat when he hears a deep voice.

“I’ve been standing at the counter for five minutes.”

Louis fumbles with his book, and it falls right onto his face. He squeaks and sneezes, the pressure tickling his nose. He blinks away the water pooling in his eyes and stands from the seat, eyes widening behind his eyeglasses when he sees a tall boy, dressed in a grey sweater with the university logo across the chest and a pair of black shorts with an orange beanie on his head. He had red cheeks and a strong jaw, eyes staring deeply into Louis that the boy tugged his long cardigan tighter. His heartbeat picks up. There stood the boy Louis has helplessly loved and stared at from across the campus, the football captain who was a year older than him. He was even more handsome up close.

“You can’t be back here.” Is the only thing Louis can say, still cloudy from being knocked in the face with his heavy book. He quickly steps towards the other teen, his dirty loafers clicking off the linoleum floor. He sneezes once again and ushers the taller boy out from the back room, he could get into serious trouble with the campus librarian, an old woman who goes by the name Ms. Matilda. No doubt would she give him an earful if she found out about a student wandering into the ‘employees only’ backroom that consisted of nothing but the old leather loveseat, a computer older than Louis and a dark creaky wardrobe.

“To be fair, I wouldn’t have to come back here if you were doing your job.” The boy crosses his arms, turning around and exits through the waist-high wooden door. He rounds the corner and clasps his hand over the counter, giving Louis a closer look at his bright green eyes and curved brows.

Louis mirrors his posture, his cheeks heat up from embarrassment. “How can I help you?” He asks his voice nasally.

The taller teen reaches under his sweater and pulls out a book, Louis wrinkles his nose, beloved books don’t deserve to be tucked into teenage boy’s shorts. “I came to return this.”

Louis visibly deflates and fixes his glasses. “There’s a little slot by the door that you can just drop your book in.” He feels bad for the other teen, and for himself as well, that he has to waste the breath to even explain this. “It saves time.” The inner part of Louis is still fairly jittery with him so close. 

The other boy’s mouth falls open before his pink lips stretch into a frown, he shrugs. “The book is called, ‘Bleu’.”

Louis works fast, finding the book on the library list and bites his lip. “You’re Harry Styles.” He wills his voice not to crack.

“Yeah,” the teen answers, shooting Louis a bright smirk. “You know me?”

Louis’ eyes widen before he lies, “Um, no. It says you’re the last one to take this book out.” Harry giggles and Louis frowns. To be honest, he’s merely heard stories about Harry and his reputation. Aside from seeing him around campus, Louis has been infatuated with Harry for months, since March to be exact. It was at football practice, Louis had waited there for Liam on the bleachers, then Harry walked out of the locker room in a pair of gym shorts and a muscle tee. Louis has never stared at someone so hard. The stories weren’t good in any sort of form. The campus was huge, Louis could pick Harry from a crowd even though Louis sees unfamiliar people every day. Instead of waiting for a reply, he continues. “Your book is late.” Louis reads off the screen. “You took it out on September 10th and it’s November 29th.” He glances at the boy. “It’s overdue.”

“Sorry?” The boy offers, leaning on the counter. “Do I get blacklisted or something?”

Louis furrows his brows and quirks his lips in a grimace. “No, but you have to pay an extra fee.” This boy was definitely something else, if Louis weren’t so invested in his pretty face, he’d ask if Harry has ever been in a library before.

“How much?” The boy reaches into his sweater again and pulls out a wallet. Harry must keep everything in his shorts.

“10 cents a day after twenty-one days.” Louis’ movements are slow and timid as he takes out a calculator from a drawer. “That’s fifty-nine days overdue, so $5.90.”

“For a book?” Harry inquires as if he’s offended. “It wasn’t even that good.” He places the change in Louis’ awaiting palm.

Louis gasped quietly, swiping the book off the counter. “I happen to be a big fan of the author.”

“Whatever,” Harry grunts lowly, crossing his arms. “I had to read it for a paper and I didn’t even get a good grade on it.”

“You probably didn’t try hard enough,” Louis mutters under his breath, but Harry hears him and replies with a loud scoff.

“I play sports, you have to be lonely to read voluntarily.” Harry rolls his eyes, making his way to the doors. “Taking words on a printed page over actual human interaction is sad. Judging by how you look I’d say you’re one of the loneliest boys on campus.” The door shuts behind him.

Louis frowns, his brain immediately going into defensive mode. Harry was only proving the stories to be true. That he was a mean, selfish teenager with nothing but a sexual passion for any girl on campus. Louis wasn’t lonely. He has friends, not a lot but they meant a lot to him. There wasn’t loneliness linked to novels. Books were drenched in imagination and freedom. Louis rolls his eyes, a guy like Harry who is a clear brawns-over-brain fellow with an aura that screams “I’m better than you”, wouldn’t know anything about the intimacy of books.

Louis trudges into the backroom again, his heart actually breaking when he sees his book, faced down and opened. He prays silently as he slowly picks it up but those prayers go unanswered when there is a large crease on page 108 from the top right corner to the middle of the page. He sits on the soft leather chair and his attempts at fixing the creased page are futile. Louis hated creasing his books, as such a devoted boy to novels, he treated them like his literal children. And now, it was permanently damaged. How lovely.

  


It’s late, exactly 9:00 pm and Louis sniffles, twisting the key in the lock of the large glass door. He double-checks the lock and tugs his cardigan tighter to shield his already sick and frail body from the chilling wind. He always hated walking to his dorm alone, especially when it was at least a good ten to fifteen minutes. He takes a long sip from his thermos and speeds up his steps. The sky is dark with only a few visible glowing stars from behind the grey clouds and the short street lamps do little to light the path to his dorm. He spots a few lingering students, simply basking in the cool Boston air but Louis strongly disagrees with their decision. They’ll get sick, just like him. 

Louis almost squeals in delight when he spots his dorm in the distance, the low lights surrounding the front door welcoming him. Of course, Louis passes by a group of a rebellious bunch. They snicker as he walks by, smoking their joints with beanies on their matted hair and Louis ignores them as always. He couldn’t wait to take a warm shower and curl into bed, hopefully, sleep-away his sickness.

* * *

Louis doesn’t sleep away from his sickness. It’s still very present in his body and makes no moves to leave anytime soon. It was Friday, the last day of the week and Louis simply wanted to finish his third book of the week and stay in the warm comfort of his dorm. And when he walked into Dr. Night’s hall, he didn’t expect for the professor to request to speak to him after the lecture. Louis sits close to the front, the opposite of what he does in his other classes, and listens attentively to his favourite professor as he blabbers on about The Great Gatsby, a novel Louis’ read about twelve times, he’s hoping to read it for the thirteenth on Sunday.

After his two hour lecture, the rest of the students leave as Louis remains tucked in his seat with his nose buried in a book. “Louis, do you know what today is?” Dr. Night’s heavy Dutch accent rings.

The blue-eyed boy peers over the top of his book, at his tall professor. “Friday.”

“The date.” Dr. Night shuffles around his desk before pulling out a calendar. “It’s the 30th. Do you know what that means?”

Louis knew this was coming. He was about to be scolded for not starting the Christmas headline, he was still new to the journalist team but he’s proven to be the most dedicated. His tardy behaviour will surely add a dent to his reputation.

“I’m sorry, Joseph,” Louis mumbles and packs up his belongings into his bag. “I’ll start the Christmas headline right away. If you have any good recipe websites for gingerbread cookies, pineapple ham, and those tiny macaroons, can you email them to me? That would save me a lot of time.” Louis rushes up the steps, almost tripping himself.

“Wait,” Dr. Night calls.

Louis turns for a quick moment, halfway up the stairs. “You’re right, no one here would make macaroons. Look for some sort of peppermint shortbread cookies instead.” Then he resumes to his race up the steps.

“Louis! Hold on,” Dr. Night follows him to the door. “You aren’t writing the Christmas headline.”

The short boy slumps, pulling a confused face. “Why not?” He hopes Dr. Night wasn’t second-guessing his abilities. Louis was a good journalist, an even bigger bookworm but a journalist none the least.

The professor swipes a paper from Louis’ opened notebook and writes something down. “Don’t make any plans for Sunday, and all Sundays after that until February. I think I found out why no one reads the campus newspaper.”

Louis sniffles before wiping his nose, “I know already, the student council committee is thinking of adding another bulletin board. The journalism team is practically screwed.”

“What?” Dr. Night furrows his eyebrows, looking up from what he’s writing down. “No, not that. It’s because of what we write about.”

“So,” Louis trails, leaning close to see a series of words on the piece of paper. “You’re telling me university students don’t like reading about turkeys, Pilgrims, and average snowfall height?”

Dr. Night lets out a hearty laugh, pushing his glasses higher on his nose and passing the paper to Louis. “I don’t think so. Sorry to put down your extravagant Thanksgiving headline but I think we need to write about things people will be interested in.”

Louis wonders for a moment. “Drugs?”

“No.”

“The world is ending?”

Dr. Night chuckles. “No. Think about it, what do University students have as an outlet when they have no money and are under the stress of pounds of work.”

“Are you sure it isn’t drugs?” Louis asks once more.

“Football, Louis!” Dr. Night nearly shouts with a smile. “University students use football as an outlet.”

“Football.” Louis repeats. “Why football?”

“The hype, the excitement, the cheering, every student loves to represent their team and the long-awaited football season is coming up.” Dr. Night gestures to the paper in Louis’ hand.

“Styles.HE—” Louis sneezes, Dr. Night blesses him. “What is this?”

“That is the captain of the football team. His email at least.”

Louis’ heart stops, Harry was the captain and the boy who unknowingly held Louis’ tiny fragile heart in his hands.

“You want me to do what with this?” Louis waves the paper.

The professor shuts the door, facing Louis with a big smile. “You are going to interview him for the April headline, I’m making it the football headline.”

“I have never interviewed anyone before,” Louis blinks several times. He tries not to relive his first encounter with the captain himself two days prior. He would rather watch Harry from afar and fantasize about how they would look together but Louis was gay and Harry was straight. Not to mention that Louis was still hung up on the fact Harry called him lonely. Louis wasn’t lonely. 

“Exactly why I’m making you write the headline alone.”

Louis’ lips part. Not only was he writing about something he had no knowledge in, Louis liked books, not sports, he also had no pointers from Zayn or Patricia like for the Christmas headline. Dr. Night notices his hesitation. “No worries about it being on the channel, it’ll only be in the newspaper. Reading is better than watching.”

Louis was completely new to the team and he couldn’t say no to Dr. Night, especially not after seeing how ecstatic he was about attracting more readers. Louis was truly nervous to the bone and so sick that his voice came it nasally, but he says yes. 

Dr. Night is even happier if possible, Louis knows he wants to jump up and down squealing like a pig. “I’ve talked to Styles, and he agreed that Sundays are his only free day, hence why you aren’t allowed to make any plans. Since this, if your first interview, get to know him before anything else.”

Louis tilts his head. “I thought interviews were straight to the point.”

“Not necessarily, you want the person to be comfortable with you.” Dr. Night states. “You need to lay down the foundation before you start building. Styles is a year older than you, so ask him about his first year. About how he brought us the championship after only a few months on the team. And what are his plans for the upcoming championship next year.”

After getting a few more pointers from Dr. Night, Louis leaves the hall. He walks out onto campus, welcomed by the chilling Boston air and on the way back to his dorm, Louis’ mind drifts to the football captain and his not-spotless reputation. Louis’ heard from Liam that Harry is already being scouted after only one year, Liam was close friends with Harry since Harry was the captain and Liam was the co-captain.

He never understood the excitement surrounding sports. He also never bothered to play sports himself, always opting to curl up in bed with a good book and a warm glass of milk. 

“Judging by how you look I’d say you’re one of the loneliest boys on campus.” Harry’s voice echoes in his brain. 

Louis looks down at his clothes, a pair of warm red corduroys and a thick black knit sweater stare back at him. Do I look like a nerd, Louis wonders? He pushes his glasses up and frowns, holding his book closer to his chest. Louis wasn’t a nerd, he didn’t seek for friends in books, he wasn’t lonely. Harry didn’t understand. 

* * *

From: Tomlinson.LW@BostonUni.com

To: Styles.HE@BostonUni.com

I’m Louis, I’ll be interviewing you for the football headline. Joseph mentioned that Sundays were your only free days. We can meet at ten in the library.  


* * *

Louis checks his email that night, seeing Harry still hasn’t even read his message. It’s been about six hours, Louis is closing the library and walks home in the dark again. 

The next day, Louis sleeps in. It’s noon when he wakes up, and it’s because he hears someone banging on his door. He sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes before getting up. His large sweater slips off his shoulder and his bare feet patter on the floor before he swings open the door.

“May I help you?” Louis squints through his blurry vision.

“It’s Saturday—do you not recognize me? Where are your glasses?”

Louis slumps, “what do you want, Liam?” He knows that voice. “Don’t you have practice or something?”

“I was excused because of my doctor’s appointment this morning.” Louis can hear the excitement in Liam’s voice. “Get your glasses, we’re going out today.” The brunette gently pushes his way into the dorm room, sighing in relief when he saw the bed on the other side of the room is empty. “Good, he’s not here.” Louis was both aware of Liam and Zayn’s rocky relationship consisting of late-night hook-ups and avoiding each other on campus. Zayn was naturally quiet and Liam was shy when it came to his sexuality, opting for following his fellow football players in enjoying the girls at their university. 

Louis huffs in annoyance, he would have preferred to sleep in. “Zayn got booked for the weekend. Someone hired him for a wedding.”

“Your roommate does _Craigslist_ dates?” Liam asks, plopping on Louis’ unmade bed, making a noise of disgust when he falls on a used tissue, he throws it on the floor.

“No. He takes pictures.” Louis starts gathering clothes and shower essentials. “How do you even know about Craigslist dates?”

“You know that really big party where you had to dress up and go to a hall and eat bad food? It was at the end of the school year.”

Louis thinks for a moment, slipping on his glasses and relaxing his eyes. “You mean prom?”

“Yeah, that.”

Louis gasps. “You—That girl. You hired her?”

Liam shrugs, taking a book off Louis’ night table and flipping through the pages without care. “Yeah, Janice. She was hot.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “Did you… Do the thing with her?”

Liam laughs, rolling his eyes. “Sex? You know sex isn’t a ‘bad word’ as you call it. And, to answer your question, a gentleman never tells.”

The smaller of the two sniffles and swipes his towel off the closet door. He puts on a pair of slippers and mutters, “whatever.”

When Louis returns to his room, all clean and smelling like lavender, Liam is passed out on his bed. Louis gathers his worn-out bag, scarf, jacket, and a box of tissues before shaking Liam awake. “Go away.” The brunet murmurs, rolling over and burying his face in Louis’ pillow. If he wasn’t sick already, he would be soon. 

Louis jumps on him, shaking him rougher. “You woke me up at noon on a day when I would sleep until three. We are going out today.”

After a few more seconds of shaking and pushing at Liam’s shoulders, the latter gets up, taking Louis off the bed and patting his head. “So tiny.”

Louis pouts. “Stop stalling, and go.” He points to the door.

* * *

They spend the day outside of campus walking along a strip of small stores and restaurants. Louis spends approximately an hour and twenty minutes in the book store, walking out with three new novels and a fresh set of bookmarks. Louis was excited to have books that weren’t scribbled on or creased. Liam, on the other hand, fell asleep in the children’s section of the store and woke up to an employee tapping his shoulder. Louis treats Liam to lunch at a tiny outdoor patio restaurant in apology despite his friend’s protests because he was well aware of Louis’ financial situation. Liam deserved it after Louis lugged him around the giant book store.

They’ve got their food and Liam has already started eating his burrito and Louis has taken a few scoops of his soup. “So,”

“So?” Liam repeats with his mouth full of a burrito. Louis wrinkles his nose, “I’m not writing the Christmas headline anymore.” 

The brunet’s mouth drops. “Just because you didn’t start? That’s so wack, what the fuck.”

“No, no.” Louis takes a sip of water, leaning closer. “Joseph is making me do the April headline.”

“For Easter? What are you going to write about, bunnies and chocolate? Different ways to paint an egg?” Louis furrows his brows, “Easter is about a lot more than that.”

“Oh yes, can’t forget about streamers in pastel colours and straw woven baskets.” Louis rolls his eyes, “Joseph wants to attract more readers,”

“How about just not having a school newspaper? No one reads.” Louis frowns deeply, gesturing to his bag of books. “No one reads except for you.” The smaller of the two lets out a long breath, “I’m writing the football headline.” It’s like Liam can read his mind, “You don’t know a thing about football. How are you going to write a full headline about it?” He tilts his head, “I guess you can do research, would that be easy?”

“It’s not that kind of headline. Joseph wants me to interview a football player, the captain to be specific.” 

“Harry Styles?” The name rolls off his tongue. “The one you dream about.”

“Shut up,” Louis hisses. “I don’t dream about him.” That was a lie. The number of times Louis woke up feeling empty yet bubbly after having a dream about Harry. His dreams always felt so real, but when he woke up, the reality would hit him like a truck. “I’m his friend, I could tell you about him instead of you being a stuttering mess,” Bless Liam, always looking out for his small innocent friend. “Joseph was really excited, I don’t want to lie to him,” Louis slouches, stirring his soup. “I have to interview him every Sunday until March.” He would rather do the Christmas headline, it would be easier and he wouldn’t need to be near Harry. Harry made Louis feel uneasy, his confidence was suffocating.

Liam whistles. “Good luck with that guy.”

* * *

They make it back to campus in time for Louis’ next shift at the library, Liam lugging his shopping bags to his dorm in the building next to Louis’. It’s about seven in the evening when Louis walks into the library since it’s a Saturday, the tables are nearly vacant. 

The blue-eyed boy walks behind the desk, holding his three new ‘babies’ and slips off his coat but keeps his scarf wrapped around his neck. He greets Ms. Matilda with a kind smile, receiving one of her signature scowls. She wasn’t the kindest ladies, but she was his boss. Taking his time, he goes to the front desk and grabs a nearby stool. His feet dangle as he flips open his new book, loving the freshness of it. He takes his glasses from the collar of his shirt and puts them on. Louis reads for almost a good hour, the library being a desert this time of day and Matilda is clicking away on her old computer in the back room. 

Louis is on page 96 when he hears the small bell go off by the door. Louis doesn’t look up from his book until a hand lands itself over one of the pages. Hands clad in shiny silver rings and pale but rough fingers. “Excuse me.” He doesn’t bother looking at the owner, he is all too annoyed and trying to read between the person’s fingers. 

“Who… the fuck is Joseph?”

His head snaps up, recognizing the voice and squints. “Harry?”

The boy’s eyes are bloodshot red, his cheeks mirroring the same cherry flush and his lips stretched into a grumpy frown. He was drunk. “The fuck is Joseph?” He was still handsome when he was drunk. Louis looks back on Ms. Matilda, her head hidden behind the large computer. He blinks several times, standing from the stool and slowly moving Harry’s hand from his book, trying not to stare at the size difference. Harry’s hands were big enough to catch a football from long distances. They were also skilled, Louis shivers. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe,” Harry bursts into small giggles and Louis feels awkward, so he circles the corner of the front desk. Harry squints at the holes in Louis’ clothes. “Aren’t you cold?” Louis inquires. Harry is wearing runners, jean shorts and a thin long sleeve shirt. “Who the fuck is Joseph?” He raises his voice, and Louis shushes him. “Joseph…” Harry says louder. “The fuck… Joseph.” Harry is close to shouting now. Louis gasps, hearing the familiar creak of Ms. Matilda’s chair and pulls Harry down. They’re both crouched behind the counter as Louis listens to Ms. Matilda’s heels click on the floor until he hears the door to the backroom close. He knows that she’s taking her nap, claiming she’s resting her eyes whenever Louis catches her doing such. Harry lets out several whispers that are all “Joseph.” 

Louis stands up again, but Harry is sitting on the floor, legs spread and leaning on the desk, “Harry, you need to go home.” He crosses his arms. “You are so,” Harry slumps lower, “lonely.” The blue-eyed boy freezes, pulling his sleeves over his hands. Harry stands, wobbling and braces himself on the desk, “I bet you’ve never kissed a girl.” Louis stiffens, and Harry eyes him. “Or a boy.” How could Harry’s lips be so pink? It’s futile, trying to hide his face because Louis blushes and Harry’s mouth grows into a big smile. “You like boys.” Harry’s green eyes are wide.

Louis’ cheeks flush deeper, spreading to his neck. “Go home.” He mutters as Harry’s eyes remain unfocused on his face.

Harry bursts into laughter, Louis is lucky the library is empty and Ms. Matilda’s door is closed. “You are so pathetic.” He leans over the desk, taking Louis’ book and flipping through the pages. “Stupid book. Stupid words.” His broad shoulders hunched over to make him look even more muscular, the material stretching.

Louis wasn’t pathetic, he wasn’t lonely and books weren’t stupid. Pathetic. The word echoes in his brain, bringing back those memories of his childhood. The days he spent reading books in the comfort of his bed as the other children ran and played. Louis wasn't lonely then and he wasn’t lonely now. There was nothing wrong with being lonely either Harry wouldn’t understand. Louis’ thoughts almost overtake his mind but before he can fall too deep, he snapped himself out of it. Harry was just drunk and pretty. Louis assumes that alcohol only heightens Harry’s bad attitude and a big ego. Even with those cons, Louis can’t help the magnetic pull he feels toward Harry.

“Reading isn’t fun. You read alone.” Harry shakes his head in distaste. “So lonely.” He lets out a surprised noise when Louis snatches the book from his hands. In his mind, Louis knows Harry is wrong. Harry is just drunk. Drunk and honest. When Harry reaches for Louis, the latter steps back. “Go away, Harry.” Surprisingly, Harry stands straight and stumbles to the door dragging his feet. “Bye, lonely boy,” Harry grumbles. “See you on Monday.”

“Sunday.” Louis corrects, ignoring Harry’s previous comments.

“Sunday, lonely boy.” Harry nods once, then leaves, the bell ringing as he does.

Walking back to his dorm is quiet, but Louis’ mind rattles about Harry’s sudden appearance at the library. Louis wasn’t lonely, no matter how many times Harry said it. He repeats it several times in his brain, he wasn’t lonely.   
  
  



	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is embarrassing but i legit forgot to publish this part... yes.. i had deleted it and reread my story and was like wtf something is missing. literally missed this entire part. i am so sorry

It was Sunday. The first Sunday of Louis’ assignment for writing the football headline. Louis wakes up at eight in the morning, alone in his dorm room. He switches off his humidifier and takes some medicine. After showering and getting dressed in a comfortable pair of corduroys and thick turtleneck, Louis gathers his things and leaves his dorm. 

Louis eats breakfast in a small cafe and texts Liam, choosing not to speak of Harry’s drunk greeting the previous night, he’d rather do that in person since Louis’ mouth moves faster than his fingers.

Louis says good morning to Matilda before finding a free table by the windows. He sets down his phone, laptop and notebook before sitting in the old cushioned chair. The library was nearly deserted, after all, it was almost ten on a Sunday morning. Most students were still in bed sleeping while the small few like Louis were up and ready to start the day. 

Except Louis didn’t want to start his day. He wanted to spend the day in bed in his dorm room, pitifully sneezing and coughing into tissues. His throat was the worst, paining him every time he swallowed and his eyes didn’t find the bright library lights to be kind. Checking his watch, Louis sees it’s exactly ten and then reaches for the book he was reading yesterday. He was on page 115 and was a little bummed he didn’t read more. It was Harry’s fault. With his drunkenness and mean words, honest words, they stole away Louis’ desire to read. He went straight to bed last night after returning home, his energy taken by the memories Harry triggered with his words. Harry made Louis feel small, not only from their height difference but also because of his ego. On the two occasions where they both spoke, it was like he didn’t care nor bother to care about the effect his words had on Louis. 

That didn’t matter though, because all Louis had to do was put up with Harry for one day every week then they’ll never interact again. Louis was content with that and keeping his love flourished crush in the deepest part of his heart. 

Almost an hour later, the chair across from Louis’ is pulled out and a body slips into it. Louis sighs softly, pushing his glasses up and raises an eyebrow. “You’re late.” Harry is nothing like last night. His eyes are bright, hair is in a beanie, and he’s wearing a black hoodie with a pair of jeans. At least he dressed for the weather, Louis thinks. 

“I missed my alarm,” Harry answers flat, his clear skin glowing from the sunlight beaming from the windows behind Louis. He shifts and leans over the table, dragging his fingertips along the dark wood. “Have you been here a while?”

Louis nods once. “We were supposed to meet at 10.” He says with more annoyance than he thought. “I’m nothing if not punctual.” Louis opens to the page with questions for Harry to answer in his notebook.

Harry rolls his eyes lazily. “Let’s get this over with, I have a date tonight.” He gloats cooly and leans back into the chair.

Louis’ movements flatter, he assumes Harry met a girl at the party last night. His eyes trail down Harry’s face to the skin of his neck, it was bare of any lovebites. A rare occasion considering Louis believes he saw one or two on Harry’s collarbone when the teen was returning a book. “Hopefully that girl is in the right state of mind.” He mutters.

Harry scoffs. “Jealous?”

Louis was a little more jealous than he would like to admit. He’s dreamt more than once about him and Harry having cute dates in some local restaurants or having a picnic in the park. He just wishes Harry was nicer, kind and as attracted to him as Louis is.

“You are,” Harry’s eyebrows raise. 

Louis rolls his eyes, masking his true feelings. “Please, if it were up to me I’d write the stupid Christmas headline.” He lies, on the fence about taking gingerbread men, igloos and winter cabins over Harry’s perfect green eyes and deep voice.

“Too bad it isn’t your choice then. Trust me, I’d rather spend my Sundays in some chicks dorm doing things I’m sure you’ve never had the chance to.” His green eyes look Louis up and down, his signature cocky smirk making a dreaded appearance.

Louis grimaces. “Whatever, Harry.” He can’t bother to correct Harry and tell him that he isn’t attracted to ‘chicks’. Instead, he clicks open his pen and writes the date at the top of his page.

“I bet you haven’t been to a party before.” Harry puts his hands behind his head, leaning back further and propping his feet on the table, right by Louis’ coffee cup. “I went to a party last night. Got wasted.”

Louis ignores him, knowing well enough of Harry’s intoxicated state the previous night. 

Louis would rather get this over with. “When is your birthday and how old are you?”

Harry hums at the boredness in Louis’ tone. “February 1st and I’m twenty-one.”

Louis perks up. “And you’re in your second year?”

“Yep, lonely boy,” the football captain yawns. “Started high school late.”

That would mean that Harry started high school at sixteen, two years later than most people. Louis questions further. “W-Why?”

Harry looks at him, his burning gaze piercing through Louis’ blues. “Only people I trust will know the answer to that.”

Louis gulps nervously. He cowers, sinking lower into his chair. Not only was Harry intimidating but he had Louis wrapped around his finger, and he didn’t even know it. Louis was fine china with Harry, the teen called him lonely and the word hasn’t left his mind since. He was hopeless.

The blue-eyed boy brings both legs up, tucking them under his chin. “Describe your first year of university.”

Harry closes his eyes, he looked so relaxed while Louis was trying to disappear. “I made friends easily through the football team. I loved it. Then my grades started to drop and I focused more on my studies, and even with less practice, I got the winning goal for the championship.” His signature smirk crawls onto his face, one dimple appearing.

* * *

As the days pass, Louis finds himself falling harder for Harry if possible. Their weekly meetings at the library still merely consist of Louis asking questions and staring at Harry in a daze as he answers each one. Louis has grown accustomed to Harry’s charm, gravitating to his deep caramel voice. Louis found himself becoming less mad at Harry showing up late to every Sunday and more thankful that he even bothered to come at all. Louis got over his sickness, but he still sniffled every now and then, a sneeze lingering on the tip of his nose.

He’s managed to balance his school, work at the library and Harry perfectly. It was a system, Louis would wake up, go to school and work during the week. Then on Saturday he would prepare all the questions he has for Harry, and when Sunday rolls around, he waits until eleven for Harry to arrive, always late, and they sit at the same table for almost two hours.

Harry was still cocky, smirking whenever he said something crude. He still calls Louis ‘lonely boy’. Unknowing to the strain it causes Louis every day. He still denies his loneliness, he knows Harry is just teasing him but a part of Louis is starting to believe it. Maybe he was lonely, maybe he was sad, maybe his friends only talked to him out of pity and books were his only true source of intimacy. 

Lonely boy. It chipped at Louis every time Harry said it. He spoke it in such a way that had Louis falling for his sweet voice but stumbling backward from his words. It was torture to spend two hours with Harry every week and pretend he didn’t matter other than the April headline. Louis was so vulnerable with Harry, and the latter had no idea. 

Louis was drowning in his eyes, in his confident aura and ratty skinny jeans. Everything he said had Louis hanging off every syllable. Every Sunday that passed, Louis was pulled deeper and deeper into Harry’s magnetic force. Louis couldn’t resist him. His nightly thoughts weren’t kind to his poor soul, punctuating each reason why Harry was the boy of his dreams before destroying all hope by cruelly reminiscing Harry’s snarky comments on the walls of Louis’ mind.

* * *

“You’re here again.”

Louis looks up from his novel, glasses fogged from the steam of his hot chocolate. He smiles, “yeah.”

Harry wipes the sweat from his face with his towel. “This is—” He’s cut off by some teammates slapping him on his back and giving his praise. He scans Louis’ clothes, layers upon layers as always. “This is the, what? Sixth time you’ve been to a practice.” He says. “And you’ve been to all our games.”

Louis gulps, he didn’t want to come out and say that he tracked down Harry’s schedule. He knew all the classes he took his lunchtime hangouts with friends, and most importantly when he had football practice. “I’m writing a full page on your football career. Can’t write a football headline without watching you play football.” He finds that to be believable, it wasn’t a lie but it was more selfish than Louis would want to admit.

“You sure it’s just that?” Harry takes one step closer, and Louis has to crane his neck to see him. The overhead lights of the field glowing behind his head, framing his messy hair like a halo. “You sure there isn’t another reason you’re here? Like, something beyond the headline.”

He had a point. Louis nervously laughs, but it comes out forced. He glances around, only a few stragglers linger but all are too far to listen to their conversation. Louis would’ve liked to become immune to Harry’s intimidating aura, after all these Sundays, he should be. But he wasn’t, Hary just affected him a certain way. “I…” He trails, feeling goosebumps rise over his skin. “I don’t—”

“You like watching me?” Louis couldn’t tell if Harry was mocking or asking him. He stands, noticing how close they are, and how short he really is. His forehead just reaching the bottom of Harry’s chin.

Harry’s gaze trails down Louis’ face, staring a moment too long at his pink lips. “Tell me.” He says lowly. “Six evenings you’ve spent out in the cold, freezing your ass off just to watch me practice. Why?”

Louis couldn’t speak, only a small noise escaping his lips when he tried. It may be the cold, or how lightheaded he was getting from Harry being in such close proximity of him but Louis swears Harry was leaning closer. He could see every freckle on his cheeks, each bead of sweat trailing down his face. There was no limit to Harry’s good looks, and Louis fell headfirst into it all. 

“You have blue eyes.”

Louis forced himself not to shiver when Harry’s breath fans over his face. “I—I do.”

Harry doesn’t move, not one inch and if anything he draws closer. If there were a wall behind Louis, he’d be pressed up against it. Instead, the back of his knees dig into the metal bleachers and there’s only a sliver of air between him and Harry’s hard chest. 

“They’re,” he licks his lips, “really blue.”

A blush paints over Louis’ face, spreading to his ears and neck. He barely registers when he starts leaning closer as well. This is everything he’s dreamed of, he was lovesick. Harry was his remedy and his poison, it was all too good to be true. Harry was so beautiful, every millisecond Louis studied his face, he fell deeper and deeper into his emerald green eyes.

Harry steps back, taking his warmth with him and Louis shudders as a cold gust of wind blows passed him. He clenches his book and thermos in both hands, staring at Harry with wide eyes and pink cheeks. Louis bites his lip, he’s never been that close with anyone, much less a boy, and the fact that it was Harry—he couldn’t grasp the fact. 

“I’m not gay.” It comes out so abruptly that Louis flinches like he’s been struck. Louis simply looks at him. Into his dark eyes and stoic face, his lips in a thin line. “I will never kiss a boy.”

The way he said it like he was trying to convince himself rather than Louis. “Okay.” Is all the blue-eyed boy can say. Harry caught him off guard often, this was something he could never be prepared for. 

“I will never kiss you.”

Those words stabbed into Louis’ tiny heart. It hurt, it ached and made his chest sore. It was all stupid, he was stupidly in love with Harry who very clearly didn’t want Louis in any way. Though Louis couldn’t make his heart drop the thought of Harry but it was locked on the Harry who he created to give him what he wanted. A kindhearted boy with eyes only for Louis and a devotion the size of the ocean. It was a heavy weight on his shoulders, the words echoed in his mind.

“Don’t do that,” Harry’s glance is a moment too long, glued onto Louis’ bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Louis opens and shuts his mouth several times. “I,” he breathes, “what?”

Harry huffs a frustrated furrow in his brow taking over his face. “Go home, Louis.” He turns, walking a few feet before looking over his shoulder. “Get home before you get sick again.” He demands this time, the younger of the two watches his retreating muscular back that finally disappears behind the locker room doors. 

* * *

Louis doesn’t go home because he has a shift at the library that night. He walks in, dusting off the thin sheet of snow that covered his shoulders and head before hiding away his jacket in the wardrobe. Ms. Matilda isn’t in tonight, as she usually wasn’t on Fridays. Louis is used to running the library in her absence, he’s responsible and his friends are mostly busy every day. _ I’m not lonely _ , he repeats in his mind, _ my friends just have plans, and I have books, I’m not lonely _.

Harry had no clue what he was saying. He was wrong about Louis, he was just mean, he was just being Harry. In a way, the thought of Harry brings that familiar warmth to Louis’ chest. Not of embarrassment, but of fond. It was foolish, Louis was as big of a fool as one can be for still being in love with Harry after he flat out told him he would never kiss him. But Louis was young, and he couldn’t see past Harry’s charm and loveliness even if he tried because every time he did, his heart would block his view and remind him once again of his stupid giant crush on the football captain. 

The library is nearly empty except for the study group of students who don’t have a better way to end their week. Louis sits at the front desk, reading quietly before leaving his station in search of something else to read. He finds a couple of books deserted at a few tables and puts them back in their place on the shelves. He does this for almost an hour, the library was huge and three floors. Sometime during his clean-up, the study group left. The walls covered in novels and textbooks aren’t much company and Louis finds himself in the back room once again, reading until his eyes slowly slip shut.

The cold outside isn’t kind to Louis’ frail fingers. He tries not to slip on a small patch of ice and quietly follows the path back to his dorm. This winter would be freezing, he could already tell with the premature snowfall and significant drop in temperature. Louis can see his dorm building in the distance but movements catch his eye. He squints, from the breeze wind burning his eyes and the snowflakes obscuring his vision. There are two figures, one taller with broad shoulders cornering the other much smaller and thinner one. It was late, mostly because Louis fell asleep on the couch in the break room and it was now past curfew, he should run to his dorms before the campus security guards see him. But he steps closer, the bright street light showing the taller figure’s face, and Louis gasps as if someone’s ripped the oxygen from his throat. He fumbles with his metal thermos but catches it before it could crash to the ground and alert the two people of his presence. 

He quite literally runs to his dorm, locking the door and standing in the darkness for a moment. He couldn’t believe what he just saw. The image is burned into the walls of his brain, overriding all his previous knowledge of the football captain because what he just witnessed, contradicted everything he thought of Harry.

Harry was straight, he liked ‘chicks’ and what he could do with them. He told Louis he would never kiss a boy, never kiss Louis, that part stung the most. He was a player, Louis knows of his string of broken hearts and charming traps, that explained why he was pressing a student against the wall of one of the dorms, but it didn’t explain why he was tongue deep in that male student’s mouth.

  



	3. 3

[Spotify playlist link](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0S748EwPz4gWzS22zzq3Yy?si=8omuWFD0Q6yzUWjwExmN6A)

* * *

Now, it was well passed December, Louis is now 18 and it’s at the beginning of January. Harry was late, three hours late to be exact and Louis was far too tired to wait any longer. He starts packing up his things, just wanting to be back in the comfort of his dorm and away from the cold. All windows in dorms were shut tight, the heaters on full blast and everyone walked around with layers upon layers. Louis was one of those people and he looks up when he hears the bell on the door ding and scowls. Louis dressed to accommodate the weather, Harry did not. Louis was wearing a pair of sweatpants, a turtleneck, knit sweater and a bright yellow oversized jacket, all from the local thrift store. He opted for a beanie to cover his bed head as his sliver of stubborn sickness kept him up all night. Harry was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a single black hoodie, even with snow on the ground, he dressed like it was summer.

Louis stiffens, his movements flattering because Harry isn’t alone today. He has a beautiful girl on his arm, she had her hair in two buns above her ears, clear skin like Louis’ never seen and eyes the deepest shade of brown. She was tall and slender, wearing skinny jeans and a sweater similar to Harry’s. Louis gulps at the telltale sign they slept together if it weren’t for their matching hickeys on their necks.

Harry sits first, propping his feet on the desk and the girl settles next to him. Louis’ bones lock, his gaze bouncing between both Harry and the girl. “Where are you going?” Harry asks. Louis could helplessly listen to him talk all day, “Back to my dorm.” Louis turns his attention back to packing up his things, he zips up his bag when ring clad fingers grab his book, “Give that back, Harry.”

The green-eyed man hums, flipping through the pages, “No.” Louis feels the anger bubble in his stomach, his cheeks heat up and he clenches his teeth. Harry was such an asshole and Louis as a fool to love him, “Give it back.” Louis leans over the table and tries to snatch his book but Harry scoots further away.

“Not until we start this interview.” Harry fans himself with Louis’ book as if it’s too hot in the library. “Unpack your things, let’s go, lonely boy. I don’t have all day.”

Louis was so annoyed and frustrated. Harry was making him feel this way. First, he’s three hours late, then shows up with his head held high as if he’s a king with a girl on his arm. It’s like everything he did was to irritate Louis in some way. He was exhausted, even though Louis had got used to Harry being late, his attitude was bearable on most days, today was not one of those days. He wanted to confront Harry on what he saw just days ago, he wanted answers as to why Harry lied. Louis knows the inner struggles of staying in the closet, but if that’s true, Harry goes to great lengths to prove his sexuality isn’t anything but straight. He needs to know that hurting people, being arrogant aren’t the answers to remaining hidden.

Harry finds amusement in Louis’ red face. “C’ mon, do it for Justin, that teacher.”

Begrudgingly, Louis unpacks his things. “His name is Joseph.” He mutters, roughly ripping his things from his bag but gently placing them on the table. He was mad but he was still considerate to other people studying and the old rickety tables of the library. He loved the home of thousands of books, after all. He plops down on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s it like being the captain—” 

“Harry, babe, when are we leaving?” The girl whines, Louis tries not to roll his eyes. “I’m bored.” But he can’t hold his tongue. “How do you think I feel? I’ve been waiting here for three hours—”

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this call.” The girl interrupts him again before standing and walking a few steps away until her voice fades.

Harry snickers, covering his mouth with Louis’ book. The blue-eyed boy takes that opportunity to tear his book from Harry’s hands. In his fit of anger, he lets out a grunt and wipes down the front cover. It was his favourite book, and when he got mad, he got immature. Harry was a witness to Louis’ grumpiness. “I don’t have germs,” Harry laughs out loud. “You want some disinfectant wipes?”

“Are you dating her?” Louis wants to take the words straight out of the air after he says them, he hides his cheeks by looking down and staring hard at his book. He knows it’s a cowardly way of asking Harry about his current status, but Louis assumes his mouth isn’t very smart with things like this.

Harry only chuckles. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, lonely boy.” 

“I’m not jealous.” Louis lies, even though he’s sure he’s never been more jealous in his life. God, he was in love with Harry and here he was, hating on a girl who hasn’t done him any wrong. Louis was so jealous. He would rather leave Harry here with that girl and wallow in sadness and anger in his dorm. He was starting to feel more embarrassed than aggravated.

He opens his mouth to speak but the girl comes waltzing back, he squirms under her gaze as she giggles before leaning to whisper something in Harry’s ear. The football player glances at Louis, his attire before stifling a laugh into his sleeve. Louis feels outnumbered.

“Your clothes have holes in them.” The girl twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, sticking to Harry like glue. “Did you find them in the trash?”

Louis feels a lump form in his throat, the embarrassment taking over his whole body and all he wants to do is run out the library but he freezes the moment Harry opens his mouth. Louis is foolish enough to believe Harry would defend him.

Harry laughs over the sound of Louis’ confidence shattering. “You know, I was wondering the same thing.” His green eyes cast down the other boy’s face, unfazed. “You dress as you might as well be living on the streets. Maybe I should call you poor boy instead of lonely boy.”

The girl lets out a hearty laugh and Louis abruptly stands, just as one rogue tear streams down his cheek. How could he believe after growing close to Harry, after interviewing him for the past few weeks that he was going to treat him differently? It was cruel for Harry to hold Louis’ heart and always tear him down. Louis wanted to cry but he refused to give Harry and the girl the gift of seeing him break down. 

“You gonna cry?” The girl mocks. “That’s pathetic,” Harry adds.

Louis rushes to gather his things, barely closing his bag before running out the library in tears. He had never felt so small and insignificant, Harry did it. He was at the center of Louis’ distress since he laid eyes on him last year. From the erratic heart races from across campus or as he moved gracefully across the football field and Louis watched from a distance. And now, for the past Sundays where he and Louis would talk for hours, mostly about Harry but nonetheless it was the interaction Louis craved that fueled his stupid crush. He could only wish Harry was kind, that maybe someone would slap some sense into Louis because he was torturing himself with being in love with Harry, he couldn’t help it.

His mind replays the few times Harry would smile at him from across the table, not smirk but a genuinely warm smile. He had Louis swooned over his charm. He was dim enough to think Harry was starting to like him, it could’ve been Louis’ mind playing tricks on him but sometimes he would catch Harry looking at him a little too long, or staring at his lips while licking his own, just like he did when they were inches away on the football field.

Harry was so complex. He was always changing himself, Louis has noticed such. He would say things, mean things, then treat Louis kindly with a genuine smile but then he would fling back into the stereotypical character he has created. He told Louis he was straight, he told him he’d never kiss a boy. Yet, the image of him grinding up against a male student was still fresh in the walls of Louis’ mind. He looked like he was enjoying it, Louis shouldn’t feel guilty but he does. He obviously knows Harry is lying to him, may be lying to himself and he’s letting him get away with it. It might be best like this, Harry was everything Louis should avoid and at the same time, he’s everything Louis loves. It was a mess, and Louis was blind, deaf and stupidly lost in it.

Louis has nearly convinced himself he’s delusional, he’s craving the comfort and attention from his crush who he loves and he’s only hurting himself in the process. It was an inescapable fate, for Louis to love a man who had no clue he had Louis’ love in the first place. Call it poetic, but Louis didn’t know how to stop his heart from hurting the rest of himself.

* * *

It’s nearly nine when Liam barges into his dorm room. He finds Louis curled in his bed, sweating under his thick layers and crying into his pillow. Liam drops his backpack, he was hoping Louis could help him with a book report due tomorrow, he knows it’s too late but Louis worked fast and probably already read the book Liam was assigned. Though, all intentions of that fly out the window when he hears the ugly sob that came from his friend in the cocoon in his bed.

“I know what you need,” Liam says once he’s cleaned Louis’ face with a wet towel. Louis squirms, “I already called Zayn, he said he’ll bring me donuts on his way back from work.” Liam frowns, “How long have you been in bed?”

“What time is it?” Louis sniffles. His eyes are red and puffy, his lips dry and cheeks stained with tears. Liam hadn't seen him like this since his bike got stolen in high school. “Nine,” Liam brushes a strand of hair from Louis’ face.

“Like eight hours.”

* * *

Liam’s fists are clenched the entire time Louis talks. He tells him about Harry and their recent sessions, then about everything that happened with the girl and Louis’ clothes. Liam knows why Louis dresses and lives as he does, Louis told him years ago and the fact that he’s getting judged for it doesn’t sit right with him. Liam mutters something about finding Harry and standing up for Louis but the blue-eyed boy is quick to beg.

“Please, don’t.” It’s a pain to see tears well up in Louis’ eyes. “Just… Just leave it alone. I don’t want to ruin your friendship with him.”

Liam scoffs. “You’ve been my friend longer—”

“And you’re on the team with him, you need to have a good relationship with him. Or else you’re going to lose every game and I’ll be the one to blame and he’ll hate me more than he already does—”

“Louis,” Liam places a heavy hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Calm down, I’ll just silently hate him, he won’t know.”

That washes over Louis in warm comforting waves. He knows he shouldn’t mention it but he needs to, he needs Liam’s opinion and assurance. “Is he gay?”

The look on Liam’s face tells Louis one thing, he was making himself look desperate. “Lou,” Liam never uses his nickname unless he’s preparing for his friend to breakdown. “Don’t get your hopes up. He’s not what you deserve, you deserve someone better.” He knew deeply of Louis’ love for Harry, he was trying to let Louis down nicely. Tell him the truth that Harry was as straight as they come and he isn’t any good. “I wish you could stop being in love with him, he’s going to hurt you more than he has.”

“I saw him, Liam.” Louis’ voice cracks. “I saw him kissing another boy.”

Pure shock overtakes Liam’s sympathetic features. His body goes stiff, “you couldn’t have.” The disbelief clear in his tone. “Harry—God, Harry is straighter than a fucking ruler.”

“I know what I saw,” Louis promises, the weight in his brain is lifting. “It was dark but I know it was him.”

“Maybe he’s…” Liam trails off. “Harry is the straightest guy I’ve ever met.” 

“Or he fooled you into thinking he was.” Louis whispers, feeling vulnerable. “He did the same to me. Told me he wasn’t gay, would never kiss a boy, and made it crystal clear he would never kiss me.”

An expression of understanding washes over Liam’s face. He knows why Louis brought it up, it was because it hurt him. Louis loves Harry, even though Liam wishes he could tell him not to, he knows he has no control over it. Louis was helpless, he was sad and now Liam had to pick up the pieces. He didn’t mind, he would do anything for Louis. The boy was far too welcoming to the world, he believed in the goodness of people too much and it was backfiring. He then pulls Louis into a tight hug, offering the gesture as a replacement of words he can’t think of.

* * *

Louis doesn’t know how Liam managed to get him out of bed and into a fresh set of clothes that definitely isn’t suitable for the weather. Louis is wearing his best clothes, the only clothes he bought from an actual clothing store for his first day of university months ago. A pair of tight jeans and a swoop neck t-shirt had Louis shivering so Liam gave him his varsity jacket. 

Louis didn’t know there were even parties on Sundays, much less on campus. The house was booming with life, lights and music. Louis has never seen so many people in one room at once, the living room is packed with dancing bodies and loud chatter that’s drowned by the music. He lost Liam in the crowd and searches for a room with much fewer people, he finds himself in the kitchen. He sits at the bar and runs a hand over his face. He could leave now and return to his cocoon of sadness in his dorm, he didn’t want to talk to anyone for the night. 

Harry’s voice echoed in his mind like a broken record, he couldn’t help but still wish Harry was his. It was a trap to love Harry as he does, he was someone who just pushed Louis’ buttons on purpose, not to irritate him but to make him cry. Harry was conscious of his words, he watched Louis’ eyes welled up in tears and he laughed when Louis ran out the library doors. He was unaware of the trail he left behind that Louis was following.

* * *

Hours later, Louis isn’t sure where Liam’s jacket went but he knows this is his fourth or fifth solo cup. He has moved from the quiet kitchen and found himself in a wave of bodies that provide more heat than his dorm. The music is loud and bursting his eardrums but Louis remains where he is, swaying with his eyes closed in the middle of the dance floor. He’s never felt this alive, if he were sober, he’d be clawing his way out. Not only was Louis still 18 and very illegal to drink, but he had a foggy mind, no contacts and forgotten his glasses in his dorm. So, with the alcohol soaring through his bloodstream, he doesn’t expect to immediately shove away the ring clad hands that pull him close.

“Louis?”

The small boy stumbles, spilling his drink all over the man’s shoes.

“Fucking hell,” the voice curses, roughly pulling Louis out of the crowd, up the stairs and into a hallway. Through his blurry vision, Louis can see multiple couples making out, all pressed up against the walls. “Louis, why did Liam bring you here?” Harry has always seen Liam as one of the most responsible and well-put-together students on campus. It’s more than out of the ordinary that he brought his friend, his underage tiny friend into a frat party, much less Harry’s frat’s party which are known to get a little too crazy. Especially tonight, the party was to celebrate the first game of the season coming up later in the week. Harry came to have fun, and he was until he saw Louis, too drunk to stand and just drifting off in the middle of the dance floor.

“Because—” Louis hiccups, “you’re an… asshole.” Without any context, Harry still agrees with him. He didn’t care about Louis’ opinion, much less what he said about him, “I’m aware.” Louis glares at him or attempts to at least. It comes off as his eyes half-lidded shut, he looks like he’ll pass out, “You… fucking liar.” 

Harry steps back but quickly recovers, out of all their sessions, he’s never once heard Louis swear, or seen the true anger in his eyes. Sure, Harry’s irritated him before but never pissed him off like it looks like he did now. Harry is about to wave Louis off because he doesn’t care much about his drunken words, but he freezes his steps.

“Gay,” Louis says too loudly for Harry’s liking. “You’re gay, aren’t you?” It’s a surprise he didn’t stutter again.

A high-pitched squeal erupts from Louis’ lips when Harry shoves him back into a room. There are two girls on the bed, half-naked and their eyes widen seeing Harry and Louis stumble in. “Out.” It’s a simple request, and the girls look intoxicated enough that they won’t remember Harry’s face but he still hides behind the brim of his hat, looking down.

It isn’t long before Harry and Louis are alone again. Though, Louis had managed to trudge his way to the half-made bed and fall onto it, groaning when his drink spills all over his hand. Harry rolls his eyes, he was a mess.

“Ew,” Louis frowns, seeing multiple condom packets on the desk, just out in the open. “Fucking perv, who leaves condoms out like that?” He wrinkles his nose, seeing a few clothes scattered across the floor, all dirty he presumes. “Fucking nasty.” But he remains on the bed, which may as well be the most germ-infested thing in the room. “Thanks,” Harry scoffs, locking the door and ignoring the many pairs of shoes cluttering behind the door. He needs to clean his room, or at least lock it so no one would wander inside during a party like this.

“Let me out.” Louis takes a long sip of his drink, it runs down the side of his neck. “You hate me, ugly Harry.” Harry can handle his alcohol, though he’d guess this is Louis’ first time being drunk. He clearly didn’t know his limits, “You think I’m ugly?” He asks, walking closer to the bed, Louis stares at him with dimmed blue eyes.

“Mhm.” Louis rolls his neck. “Ugly on the inside, not the outside.”

The only reason Harry hasn’t kicked Louis out his room was because he was amusing, watching him sway and mumble to himself then almost drown himself in his drink. Harry’s seen plenty of people drunk, Louis was different. Sober, Louis was so quiet, almost hiding in books or the collar of his shirt. He had walls surrounding himself, and just an aura that said, “I’m not here to fuck around and leave me alone”. Now, he was more relaxed, carefree, blushed less, and he swore. The polar opposite of what Harry has seen these past few weeks.

“You’re pretty and you fucking know it.” Louis grunts. “Stupid face, stupid lips. You’re so pretty at being ugly.” Harry pulls a face. “Why the hell are you here? Go home, you’re drunk.”

This time, Harry actually laughs. “I am home, you’re in my room. And I’m tipsy, not drunk, you are.”

“Close the window, it’s fucking freezing.” Louis roughly squirms on the bed, “I’m gonna die in here.” Louis was ridiculous, but Harry obeys simply because he didn’t want to listen to Louis complain while he prodded at him for answers, “You’re annoying.”

“No one asked, ugly Harry.” Is Louis’ reply. “Don’t care what you think… Actually, I really care what you think.” Louis groans. “Always care what you think.”

With timid movements, Harry lingers by the window. The music and loud chatter still audible from the first floor. “You do?”

“Ye—” Louis hiccups, “—ah.” He rolls over, spilling what’s left of his drink on Harry’s bedsheets. “Loved you for a whole while, ugly Harry is too stupid to realize it.” Harry’s eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. That four-letter word had the world crashing down on Harry, fucking love. There was no way to describe the thoughts running through his head. Love, an old-fashioned, overused word that lost meaning, a word Harry hasn’t used for anyone but his family was now being said by a drunk bookworm that lay in his bed. A boy with the bluest eyes Harry’s ever seen, and he was lying in his bed, bladdering on about how he’s loved Harry. A self-absorbed asshole like Harry. 

“You’re always in my head. I want you out, don’t want you in there.” Louis murmurs. “Taking up too much space.” Harry furrows his brows. “Get out, I don’t want you to read my mind.”

Goodness, Louis was wasted, it was starting to get concerning rather than amusing. Harry wonders if he’ll need to call Liam, but first, he needs Louis to talk to him without the drunken gibberish. “What you said in the hallway before,” Harry slowly sits on the bed, suddenly feeling tense. “You said something.” He plays it cool, hoping that even though Louis was drunk, he’ll give a thoughtful reply. 

“Your room smells.” Is all Louis says, dropping his cup off the side of the bed and shifting upwards to put his head on a pillow. “Smells like,” He rubs a hand over his face, “Peppermint.”

“Louis,” Harry calls wearily, “do not fall asleep in my bed, or so help me, I will carry you out and leave you on the curb.”

“Mhm,” Louis hums quietly, reaching down and despite Harry’s choked noise, adjusts himself in his pants. “Fucking Liam, fucking tight-ass pants. Can’t feel my fucking legs.”

“Louis,” Harry watches his hand fall limp on his lap, he notices his clothes actually have no holes or stains in them, and his eyes shut. “Louis, don’t you dare. I will pour cold water on your face, I don’t care if my bed gets soaked. Do not sleep in my bed.”

“Shut up, ugly Harry.” Louis murmurs.

Harry couldn’t get Louis’ words out his head, because Louis, of all people, would even have a clue as to who Harry was. Of course, he was interviewing him, but he only knew what Harry wanted him to know. It was the best way to keep things individual between them, it was the only way for Harry to keep up with his image. And Louis loved him. 

Among the lines of Louis looking particularly soft tonight, Harry refused to speak to him or even look at him unless needed. And needed it was when he saw his other frat brothers eyeing Louis like a piece of meat from across the room, Harry hopes they were too high off their ass to see Harry swoop him up and hide upstairs. 

Before Harry knows it, an hour had gone by and all he’s done is stare at Louis like a bloody creep. He couldn’t help it, whoever blessed Louis with his good looks had Harry speechless. He couldn’t look away from his nimble body, gracious curves like he was moulded by a fucking god, and just the softest skin Harry’s ever seen. Don’t get him started on Louis’ face, Jesus knew it was a crime to put together such features and not expect Harry to study him like a piece of art. His cheekbones were as prominent as his collarbones that poked out from the collar of his shirt. His long eyelashes brushing against the highest point of his cheekbones and casting delicate shadows over his freckled skin. His lips, Harry has caught himself staring at them more times than he can count, so pink and with the perfect amount of plumpness. Harry couldn’t get over how peaceful Louis looked when he slept, even if a small bit of droll had started to drip from the corner of his mouth, Harry still admired him. He’s almost tempted to pry open Louis’ eyes just to see the enchanting blue but decides against it. Even that was too weird.

When Louis shifts, only then does Harry look away with a fear of being caught. He’s heard people can wake up if they feel like they’re being watched, he definitely doesn’t want to find out. As his gaze travels around his room, Harry’s eyes lock on a sweater hanging over his desk chair. He clenches his jaw and stands, taking out his phone and texting the owner of it with an angered expression. He’s told Thomas a billion times to not leave his shit in his room, all for the possibility of someone recognizing it and asking Harry if he’s had any boys over. The sweater was a bright green, far too small for someone Harry’s size and not his style either, stupid Thomas, Harry stuffs the sweater deep in his closet for now.

At that moment, Louis decided to roll over onto his stomach, giving Harry the opportunity to ogle at his plump behind. He’s noticed Louis’ blessed bottom before, only getting mere glances when he would bend over to pick something up or when he would get up to use the bathroom, letting Harry watch his ass through his oversized pants. Harry groans, tugging on the front of his jeans and leaving for his connected bathroom to splash cold water on his face. 

His mind falls back onto Louis, he asked if he was _ gay_. Harry runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He knew Louis was gay, of course, if his lingering gazes weren’t enough, Louis was far too sweet, and fucking tasty to be straight. He was too gay to even stare at the girls who walked into the library, hell, he was too _ Louis _to be straight. Harry was thinking too hard about this, about Louis, he needed answers, he’s not proud of what he’s going to do to get them but it’s necessary. 

* * *

“What the fuck!” Louis sits up, and immediately sends a glare in Harry’s direction. The cold liquid seeping through his shirt and down his chest making him shiver. He was sure he was going to have a heart attack. “What the hell, Harry?”

“Just, Harry? Not, ugly Harry?” 

If the deadly glare is anything, Harry knows Louis isn’t pissed drunk anymore, probably a little sleep-dizzy which on Harry’s part has worn off in the few hours Louis has slept. It was exactly four in the morning, bright an early on a Monday and here Harry was, unable to get shut-eye because Louis turns so much in his sleep.

“What’s your problem?” Louis asks with such confidence and spice, Harry shifts away, dropping the bucket at his feet. 

“Right now, you are.”

That combined with the uncomfortable feeling settling in Louis’ stomach over the fact he just woke up, feeling dizzy and angry in Harry’s bedroom in his bed, has Louis standing and nearly knocking into Harry’s head. He couldn’t wrap his head around how long he’s been out for and now he’s drenched in cold water in Harry’s bedroom. The sun hadn’t risen yet, the realization settles in and Louis feels stupid to admit he didn’t realize this was Harry’s frat house. “God, I need to get out of here.” He shoves Harry out the way and trudges to the door but before he’s got a finger on the doorknob, a body obstructs his only way out, aside from the two windows of course. Louis is desperate to get out but not desperate enough to break his ankle and limp home before Harry can catch him.

“Hold on,” Harry’s breath puffs over his face. “Just, wait a moment.”

Louis impatiently taps his foot on the floor, staring at Harry long and hard through his wet fringe. “Well?” He juts out his chin. “If it’s something I did while I was drunk, I’ve got a headache so I won’t apologize.” Louis wouldn’t call himself sleepy because Harry has a better bed than his at the dorm, per se, just drifting between embarrassing sober and sassy cranky.

“You said multiple things,” Harry begins, standing normally but leaning back on the door. “You said you love me.” If Louis’ face wasn’t red before, it surely is now. His eyes are blown wide, jaw to the floor and all visible skin of his has turned a cherry red. Louis slaps his hands over his face, he needs another drink. He has half a mind as he turns around to look all over Harry’s room, eventually coming across an unopened bottle of tangerine vodka, an odd flavour but Louis twists it open and gets three long gulps before it’s yanked from his hands and spills down his shirt.

“What is wrong with you,” Harry gapes at him as if he didn’t wet Louis in two different kinds of liquids. He grabs the cap from Louis’ hand and closes the bottle, thankfully there’s more than half left. “I was saving that, what the hell, Louis?” Louis’ throat stings from the vodka and his tongue tingles from the tangerine. The fogginess in his mind increases by a smidge but that’s not enough for Louis not care anymore.

“Get yourself together,” Harry demands, setting the bottle on his desk and stepping closer until Louis is cornered against a wall, “I need you to calm down.” That was the last thing Louis expected Harry to say, he presumed he would curse at him, call him names and maybe literally toss him out of his room but the only thing he does is hold Louis’ eye contact. “Are you better now?” Harry asked, lowering his voice and leaning down. Louis blinks rapidly, frozen between the wall and Harry’s body, the stench of probably his own sweat mixed with whatever alcohol he drank files up to his nostrils but he can’t bring himself to turn away. 

Harry knew that Louis liked him. How embarrassing, Louis wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Louis doesn’t know why he can’t help it, but he cries. He breaks down in tears, they obscure his vision and he covers his face with his hands. “You must hate me.” He slumps against the wall. “You do hate me, I’m so sorry.” He can only apologize. He can’t handle being this close to Harry with him knowing his secret, it was all too much and Louis’ headache was getting worse. He knows Harry hasn’t favoured him, if the last day was anything to go by, it isn’t news that Harry hates him. He should. Louis was just too stupid to realize it and now Harry knows. “I shouldn’t have come.” He should’ve stayed home, he makes the mistake of looking into Harry’s eyes, his knees go weak. 

Goodness, he loved him. He loved more than he loved any other boy he’s met, he was just too irresistible and Louis was too weak. 

“I have to go.” He hates the electricity that shoots up his arm when Harry touches him. He cries all over again, and he’s sick of it. “Let me go.” He tugs weakly. Harry says nothing, giving Louis one last squeeze before releasing him. Louis shoves Harry out the way and nearly crashes into a blond man walking up the stairs. “Sorry.” Is all he can mutter, he runs out the frat house, suffocating in his own pity. 

* * *

Six days go by. Louis continues on with his life, focusing on his school and working at the library. He gets money in the mail from his parents and he spends it on a new blanket. It was winter, sometimes the dormitory heaters didn’t work and Louis would shiver all night. The blanket, Liam sees and offers Louis one of his that he doesn’t use anymore. Louis declines politely, knowing Liam’s dormitory is far worse in the winter season. 

Sunday rolls around, Louis shows up at the library at 10. Harry never shows, Louis leaves the library at 3 in the afternoon. Hungry, his feet had fallen asleep and worst of all, he was lonely. 

  
  


* * *

One can expect the surprise, most importantly the rage Louis has when he sees Harry standing outside his dorm door. At first, Louis doesn’t say a word, he shakes off the snow and unlocks the door. Harry doesn’t speak, he simply stands there in his shorts and hoodie. If Louis weren’t so mad, he would tell him to dress warmer. His presence is enough for Louis so shiver, he clenches his book tighter and he gets into his room, about to shut the door, but a foot slots between the corner. “Please.” 

Louis was far too weak to the softness in Harry’s tone, he was far too weak for Harry. He releases the door, and steps back, dropping his things on his bed, sighing softly when the contents spill out. At least his roommate wasn’t there, it would have been awkward to see Harry, star player and captain of the football team to step into Louis’ tiny, messy dorm. There were books in stacks all over the floor, Louis had been saving up money for a shelf, and a few pairs of clothes scattered.

Harry moves slowly, closing the door and carefully sitting next to Louis, “I didn’t show up today.” A scoff sounds immediately after. “I know,” Louis scoots further away, by his pillows and watching the snowfall outside. The light pours in, just dimly from behind the grey clouds. He could burst into tears now. Harry has thrown him into a whirlpool. Louis couldn’t climb out, he was far too deep into Harry’s force. He loved him too much to save himself the heartache any longer. 

“Look at me.” A small request but it takes a large portion of Louis’ own self worth to complete it. Looking into Harry’s eyes had Louis offering every little piece of his heart. “Louis,” Harry leans close, whispering softly. His eyes fall to Louis’ lips. 

Louis’ lip wobbles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that I,” he breathes deeply, “I’m just stupid and gay and you hate—” In his fit of overwhelming emotions with the added bonus of a dull ache in his temples, Louis isn’t sure why he doesn’t knock Harry’s teeth in when he kisses him.

It was a wave of passion in the form of electricity. Louis’ never felt something so soft, so kissable before. His own lips must be chapped from sleep and his face is still wet with tears. A shiver runs up his spine, as Harry leads the kiss to become eager. Louis lets out a quiet whine, drawing closer. Heat pools in his stomach and wills himself to not pull away for a breath. It’s everything he’s ever wanted but on a roller coaster. It was Harry, Harry who held him captive under his radiance. 

Louis grows weak, falling back to the wall and letting Harry take everything. His big hands lightly roam Louis’ body, over the thick wool of his sweater and the small of his waist. Harry’s lips were so smooth, and perfect, better than Louis had dreamed. 

He loved him, he loved him and he was finally kissing him. The wait, the dread, the embarrassment all felt worth it at that moment. All the longing glances, the warmth in his chest whenever Harry would smile at him—it all made sense. Louis whines louder, humming into the kiss and his fingers slowly reach out to brush Harry’s shoulder before he’s pushed away rather roughly.

The green-eyed man is panting, gaze wide and set on Louis’ lips. “I—I can’t do this.”

The entirety of Louis’ hope crumbles. “Do what?” Louis mirrors his breathing. His lips were tingling, almost numb from hunger.

“This,” Harry stands abruptly, almost knocking into the night table. “Us.” He points between them. 

“You kissed me,” Louis emphasizes with a deep frown, the water pooling in his eyes once again. Harry initiated the kiss, he leaned closer, and he looked at Louis’ lips first. “You showed up here.”

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head repeatedly. “I mean, I did come here, fuck.” Harry staggards back, stumbling over a pair of pants and a backpack “I didn’t kiss you.”

“You think I kissed you?” The confusion is audible in his tone.

Harry’s brain scrambles for words, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to kiss Louis again. He couldn’t kiss him, he didn’t kiss him and they wouldn’t kiss again. Harry doesn’t know why he showed up here in the first place, he doesn’t know why he asked Liam for Louis’ dormitory and dorm number. 

“You practically did!” Harry raises his voice as if Louis couldn’t hear him but the boy did. Louis heard him loud and clear, he also heard his own heartbreaking. “With all the glances, fuck, you know how you look at me.” Harry pulls at his hair, he had no self-control when it came to Louis and that was dangerous. “You… The way you wouldn’t stop, you came to every practice, you didn’t give me space, you wouldn’t leave me alone.” His eyes have never been so cold, goosebumps rise on Louis’ arms. “You made me kiss you.” His tone is harsh, proving just how he truly feels about Louis.

Harry made Louis seem desperate, a part of him was, but he drew Louis in like a leech who was sucking the fun and life out of his existence. Louis was just distressed and he wanted Harry. Was it a crime to want the one person he loved? It must be if Harry is treating him this way. He was being punished for kissing back the man he loved. 

“Who am I to you?” Louis’ words are soft and they wash over Harry’s heated skin. Louis was stupid, like a failure. He must be deluded, thinking Harry reciprocates his feelings, but he must’ve—the smallest part of Harry cared about Louis more than a friend, but he was too blind to see it. Harry’s next words snap every piece of Louis’ delicate heart in two.

“Nothing.” The teen locks his gaze with Louis’, watching the tears threaten to spill over. “If anything, you’re a burden.”

Louis didn’t want to cry again. He didn’t want to give Harry the pleasure of seeing him weak. “You’re lying.” His voice cracks, sob on the tip of his tongue.

“Am I?” Harry retorts, clenching his fists by his side, his shoulders squared. “I don’t care about you, Louis. I am not attracted to you in any way, I’d have to be deaf, blind and hopeless to even consider you an option.” His words sting worse than a bee. He goes closer to Louis, cornering him, trapping him. The smallest sliver of Harry knew he was lying straight through his teeth, he was just saying these words to hurt Louis. Though now, Harry thinks he took it too far. The barriers around his heart start to crack when Louis begins crying. Harry reaches for him, stepping forward and jumping at the sound of Louis’ wretched voice. 

“Leave,” Louis cries into his hands. He sobs loudly when he feels a warm hand on his arm. “Get out, Harry!” He wanted to be alone. He was alone. He wanted to be left alone.

Harry was right, Louis nearly convinced himself he was not lonely, but now he thinks he is. But, in that one moment where Harry’s lips were on his, nothing else mattered. The yearning, the feeling, the desperation cooled into his hands and exploded into a firework of just Harry.   


Harry huffs his vulnerable side hiding once again. “Gladly.” He turns around, hands shaking and swinging the door open. He’s met with a tall lean dark-haired man with a camera strapped over one of his shoulders. 

Zayn freezes, looking over Harry’s shoulder at Louis who was in silent tears on his bed surrounded by books and pencils. He sets his gaze on Harry but the latter is pushing it out of the way and almost running down the hallway. He takes the stairs down, leaving a heartbroken, helplessly in-love Louis behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me your thoughts ! :^) thanks for reading


	4. 4

“You’ve got to get the bed.” Louis simply rolls over, it’s only been three days. Liam was acting like he hasn’t seen daylight in a week. His friend sighs. “Louis, you have a pile of work on your desk, that’s not like you.” He pauses. “You should forget about him, you know.”

Louis wishes it were that simple. He loved Harry, he kissed Harry who made it clear he had no feelings for him. He knew Liam was somewhat aware of what happened, having met up with Zayn who filled him in. He had no clue of their kiss though, Louis wants to keep it a secret. Not only for Harry’s sake but for his as well. He doesn’t think he can fully absorb the fact he had Harry, and Harry pushed him away. There was a different direction this could have went, that way involved Harry kissing him some more and they would have spent the day in bed wrapped up in each other’s arms. Louis couldn’t understand Harry. He’s seen him kiss a boy and enjoy it, then he kisses Louis and everything goes down the drain. 

Louis’ tried to push Harry’s existence into the back of his mind but his notepad with everything from their sessions for the headline stares back at him. He can’t let Joseph down because of his feelings—the real world didn’t work like that and that might be the lesson here. Maybe Louis should be the bigger person, he should remain strictly professional with Harry. Forget their kiss, most importantly forget his love for him. But he can’t. Harry was all too much for his poor brain, his poor heart and Louis tried but after Harry’s hurtful words, he couldn’t see him again and fall in love all over again. It should be illegal for Louis to feel this way. For him to be so devoted to someone who hurt him—he should be relieved of all the suffering. 

* * *

Later that day, after Liam had left for football practice and gave Louis a sandwich from the shop on campus. Louis has dressed warmly once again, munching on his sandwich and standing outside the English building. Joseph’s lecture room is there, just down the hall and on the right. 

Louis is going to tell Joseph he can’t do the April headline, and he should pass it onto Patricia. She and Harry weren’t a match but it would be bearable. Patricia was funny and Harry was sarcastic, she was confident and Harry had an ego the size of the moon. Louis was none of those things, it’s no wonder why Harry didn’t want him. Louis was quiet, wore clothes too big and too old, he carried around a different book every three days and spent his free time in the library or in his dorm. He vowed to never go to another party, not after what happened before, that was the first and last time Louis will ever be drunk. 

But Harry must’ve been attracted to him somehow, or at least attracted to men. 

_ “I’m not gay. I will never kiss a boy. I will never kiss you.” _

Harry lied to Louis and to himself. It was clear that Harry had an inner conflict he couldn’t win, and by losing, he was hurting Louis. Whenever Louis was hurt, he isolated himself to be alone with his thoughts and his own self-pity. It was destructive but it was him. But, Joseph deserved better than Louis when he was self-destructive. 

Once Louis opens the door, he immediately hides behind the corner. Down the hall was Harry, not alone but with the girl from the library. She was pressing him up against the wall, with her hands braced on Harry’s hips. 

“C’ mon, we haven’t fucked since last week.” Louis shivers, debating if he should just make a run for it. Maybe Harry wouldn’t see him if the girl held his attention a little longer. 

“I’m just not in the mood.”

“You haven’t been in the mood since you made that kid cry.”

Louis stiffens. He subconsciously digs his nails into the palms of his hands. “I didn’t make him cry.”

“Oh yeah?” The girl laughs bitterly. “It wasn’t until you opened your big mouth he cried like a baby.”

“Shut up,” Harry’s voice gets louder, Louis is afraid someone else in the hall will hear. “Why’d you even bring up his clothes?”

“Why did you side with me?”

“I didn’t side with anyone.”

“That’s rich, Styles. You made it clear who you sided with when you made him cry. Who would’ve thought you’d lose yourself over some nerd.”

Louis gulps, refusing the move until he hears the footsteps fade in the other direction. The memories from Sunday rushing in and pushing all his rationalities to the back of his mind, Harry couldn’t have been protecting him now—not after treating him so horribly the last couple days. Harry losing himself over Louis was a stretch, hell, he made it clear he didn’t care about him. There was no telling what was going on between him and the girl in order to know why she said that—the hopeful part of Louis still dreamed of having Harry as his. It was a fantasy that would never be fulfilled. 

“You can come out now.” Harry’s voice sounded a lot closer now. “Louis, I know you’re there.” With red cheeks, Louis steps out from behind the wall. He twiddles his thumbs, standing straighter when Harry’s shoes come into view. A chill runs up his spine when a hand goes under his chin, bringing his head up. Harry was so beautiful, his godly appearance taking Louis’ breath away. His face was soft, eyes gentle and lips parted. Louis knew his face was as red as a freshly picked cherry. 

“Do you want to get some hot chocolate?” Harry asks quietly, keeping his fingers under Louis’ chin. Louis’ thoughts are all over the place, he forgets about Joseph, the headline, the girl, the party, his first kiss with Harry—all because the man he’s in love with was patiently tracing shapes under his chin. “Or, we could go somewhere else.” Harry pulls away, but Louis chases his hand. He holds Louis’ face between his palms, his warm palms comforting the coldness of Louis’ cheeks. “We could go to your dorm. More private, I suppose.”

* * *

On the way to Louis’ dormitory, they walk with more than a foot between them. Louis’ goosebumps still present from when Harry touched him kindly and tenderly, he was hopeless with Harry. The campus was littered with a few students, the few who chose willingly to be outside in the winter. Harry was wearing shorts and a hoodie like always, Louis would tell him to dress warmer but from the simple touch of Harry’s hands, he knew well enough that he had a strangely hotter-than-normal body temperature. 

They’ve been sitting on Louis’ bed for a few minutes when suddenly Harry lunges and Louis feels pillowy lips on his. It’s not like his first kiss, Louis notes, it’s reserved. It holds the same eagerness but it’s more controlled and knowing. Harry leads the kiss, his hands returning to Louis’ cheeks and holding him close. 

Louis melts instantly. The thirst for Harry being fed and his body sagging while he grips Harry’s shoulders. A wash of _ just Harry _takes Louis captive and he opens his mouth. Harry groans, one of his hands falling down the base of Louis’ neck to pull at his cardigan. Harry’s lips are different, they’re tamed and collected, he explores Louis’ mouth with an intimacy that’s found in life long partners. Louis is the opposite, he’s in a trance with his fingernails digging into Harry’s sweater and his body quickly reacting to being kissed. Louis knows he’s crying when he feels wet tears drip down his cheeks.

When Harry’s hand slips down further, under the hem of his cardigan and touches the lowest part of his belly. Louis pulls away. His eyes wide and chest rising and falling. Harry looking calm and the smallest smile gracing his pink lips, “I’ve been wanting to do that again.” Louis brings his knees up and hides his red cheeks. He kissed Harry again, the same Harry who broke his heart and made it race, “You’re not gay.” His voice is muffled against the material of his pants. Harry shifts on Louis’ bed, his hair falling over his eyes before he runs a hand through it, “I might be.” He picks up a book from the foot of Louis’ bed and drags his fingers over the creased corners. 

“You said you’d never kiss a boy.” Louis peers at him from behind his fringe. “I saw you kissing a boy.”

“I guess I am attracted to men, in some way.” Harry shrugs. 

“You said you would never kiss me.”

“And yet, I did.” Harry licks his lips. “Twice.” Louis fully faces him, his expressions solemn. Harry continues. “I can be a real ass if I want, you must know that by now. I know that doesn’t make up for the things I’ve done but you’ve taken over me.”

“Who am I to you?” Louis doesn’t move, afraid to disrupt the gentle air surrounding them. He was placing himself on thin ice, one wrong move and he could slip and fall into the ice-cold water. He was prepared this time, for the harsh words that would come from Harry’s lips. Harry’s chest stills, his breaths pause as he thinks. His brain has been filled with nothing but Louis since he kissed him. Everything he saw brought him back to Louis. The blue sky because of Louis’ eyes, the books stacked on his desk because Louis always walked around with a book in his hands, the five-year-old sweater in his closet damaged with holes because all of Louis’ clothes had holes in it, and peppermint gum because Louis always smelt like peppermint. “You are Louis.”

“Am I yours?”

Moment’s pass and Harry only gulp. Of course, he’s fantasized about Louis but with his reputation and his image—he can’t date a man. Though Harry’s heart desperately begs to be closer with Louis, physically, emotionally, and Harry can’t ignore it’s pleading. “If you want to be.”

“I want.” Louis shuffles up the bed, not daring to stray too far from Harry’s warmth. He feels his eyes sting from all the crying and sniffles quietly. “Are you mine?”

Harry smiles, it’s strained and doesn’t reach his red-rimmed eyes. “Only on Sundays.”

Louis could live with that. 

  



	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> major time skip. four months to be exact.

It was Sunday, their Sunday. Louis had to beg Harry to spend the day with him because they couldn’t break tradition. Not after these four months. So once Harry shuts his door and falls onto the bed, Louis follows with a tiny smile. His nerves were eating him alive. He couldn’t hold out any longer, Harry needed to know. Louis tries to calm himself and curls up to Harry, swinging his leg over Harry’s waist and keeping a sliver of space between his hard tummy and his boyfriend’s torso. He was more than skittish, his heart was racing but he was determined to tell Harry the truth. 

“I have to tell you something.” Louis murmurs over the low volume of the television. He liked to think Harry turned it down to hear him, but he knows Harry did it in case one of his family members decided to come upstairs. Louis masks his hurt with a small smile, dragging his finger up Harry’s naked chest and over his tattoos. His eyes lingering on the butterfly, his favourite because of the stark contrast on Harry’s fit muscular body to the delicate wings of the insect. “Go on,” Harry says, his arm wrapped around Louis lightly. 

This was it. The weight on Louis’ shoulders was going to disappear, he was going to come clean and tell Harry something that made him scared. He feels so alone, but he wasn’t going to be alone because he will have Harry.

Louis takes a breath, nervously clenching his fists. He shuts his eyes, whispering. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence is what he’s met with. Ear-splitting silence taking over the room and making goosebumps rise on his skin. Harry’s breath pauses, his body going stiff and face losing all content. Louis moves slowly, taking a better look at Harry’s face. His brows furrowed and lips parted, and he’s staring up at the ceiling. Louis is about to call his name but the doorknob rattles, his blood runs cold when Harry shoves him away and leaps to the door. “Harry?” It was Winona. She lets out a startled noise when Harry slams his body on the door after she’s cracked it open. She knocks. “It’s dinner time.”

Louis sits on the bed, legs pulled to his chest and heart falling to the floor. He feels so stupid to believe that this baby would bring Harry to accept himself and break free of his own toxic chains. Here he was, the love of Louis’ life, the father of his child, barricading his bedroom door because he doesn’t want his family or the world to know he’s gay. “I’ll be down in a moment, mom,” Harry calls through the door, listing to her retreating footsteps before pushing a chair under the doorknob. 

What hurts the most was that Louis loved him. He has loved him since the summer semester and Harry was blind to see the true devotion Louis held for him. Harry stomped on Louis a lot, from the beginning when they met and when he broke Louis’ tiny heart and especially when he mended it together again with the thought that spending every Sunday would suffice. Louis wanted the world to swallow him whole, the embarrassment coursing through his veins was enough for him to break down into tears. “Goddammit, Louis.” Louis cries harder because this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Harry was supposed to be overjoyed and swing him around at the news of their baby. He was supposed to carry Louis downstairs and come out to his family with pride and tell them Louis was pregnant. How could the world be so cruel and make Louis believe in fairytales when his life was far from it. 

“Is it even mine?”

Louis lets out a frustrated noise, so loud his voice cracks. “H-How dare you!”

His heart completely shatters when Harry surges at him, holding a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. “Shut up.” Louis shoves him, hard, so that Harry falls off the bed with a grunt. “Don’t put your hands on me!” He couldn’t contain himself, the sound of his voice was surely heard from downstairs.

“Fuck,” Harry rubs his elbow which must’ve smashed on the ground during his fall, Louis couldn’t care less because Harry was demolishing on his poor broken heart. “Can you keep your voice down?” Harry rumbles, anger clear on his face. “No,” Louis stands with his fists clenched, he roughly rubs his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, Harry’s sweater. “You do a lot of fucked up shit, Harry. Don’t you ever put your hands on me again.” He is still shouting. He just feels ignorant, lost, and used. He feels like a fool. Louis wishes he could turn back time and punched himself in the face, maybe then he’d understand that Harry wasn’t going to be the Harry he wanted.

“Louis,” He speaks with such venom, Louis willed himself not to shiver. “Shut your mouth,” Louis lost it. He trudges to Harry and shoves him back on the floor, “Don’t talk to me like that! It’s your fault I’m pregnant!” He’s never felt so much rage, Louis could barely see through his tears. “Shut the fuck up, Louis!” Harry curses, his cheeks turning red. He pushes off the floor and towers over Louis’ small frame. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, the heat radiating off his body in thick waves. “How do I even know it’s mine? God knows you’d spread your legs for anyone.”

Louis stumbles backward like he’s been struck, Harry’s words sinking to the pit of his stomach and repeating in his brain. He couldn’t fathom the lengths Harry went to in order to keep up his facade of living in the closet with no strain. “Take that back,” Louis demands through his teeth. “Right now, Harry.”

“I bet it’s not mine,” Harry continues, destroying the weak walls Louis built up. “I bet it’s some other bloke’s kid, isn’t it? You’d take it from anyone.” Harry spits with spite, his green eyes never looking so fiery. “Because you’re desperate, you’re lonely.”

Not lonely, Louis says to himself. His knees wobble, a lump appearing in his throat because Harry knows that isn’t the truth. Louis wasn’t lonely with Harry, and now he was pregnant. He could never be lonely again. “You have some nerve,” Louis hasn’t given himself to anyone but Harry, he was his first and his last, his one and his only. His breaths morph into pants, and Louis struggles to breathe. “Whose is it, huh?” Harry steps closer, forcing Louis to press his back against the wall and face his head away. “Is it Liam’s? You spend so much time with him, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were fucking him too-” Harry’s words cut and his head faces the other direction as the loud sound of skin on skin echos through the room.

Louis escapes from between Harry and the wall, his palm stinging. “Liam is my friend, he actually encouraged me to come to see you. To come to give you the _great _news.” Hostility is dripping from his every word. Harry stands there frozen, with one hand on his flaming cheek and the other clenched by his side. The rage behind his eyes was suffocating, but Louis refused to be stepped on any longer. “I put up with you, Harry. I put up with your snide remarks, your selfishness, and your attitude all because I love you. I see you on campus and avoid you because it’s what you asked me to do!” Louis starts crying all over again, he hugged himself tighter. “I spend one day alone with you once a week because that’s the only time you’re free, or should I say, willing to spend with a loser like me?”

Harry’s face falls, and so does his hand. He gulps, burning under Louis’ hard gaze. “Louis,”

“No! Shut up!” Louis points a finger, staggering back when Harry reaches for him. “You don’t think I know about the past few Saturdays? The nights that you have free and can spend with me but you choose to go out and party.” He pulls at his hair roughly. “And I let you because I think I’m holding you down, but that’s what a relationship is. You’re supposed to be unavailable, you’re supposed to spend time with me, you’re supposed to spend more than just a day with me! I’ve been with you for four months, always telling myself I can do it, just two more years and we’ll be free. I was so daft.” He pulls harder at his hair. “I give you everything of me, Harry, no questions asked. I let you do anything, I give you the freedom and the opportunity to lie to me again and again.”

“I haven’t lied to you!” Harry couldn’t process anything.

“You ought to get an award for being such a good liar, Harry.” Louis hisses. “You can’t come out because you’re ashamed. You think being gay isn’t you. Learn to accept yourself. It’s no crime to want to be in the closet but when it’s starting to affect me,” he pauses, “affect me and your baby, the stress is too much. Did you know I was admitted to the hospital last week? I fainted, because of dehydration. I stopped drinking because of all this pressure you put on me. To keep us a secret. And you didn’t notice that I was missing for three days?” Louis laughs bitterly. Images flashing through his mind of the doctors telling him he was just finishing his first trimester. “You couldn’t have known because you don't give a shit about me. You don’t care enough about me to try to see me sometime during the week, instead you rely on one fucking day.”

Harry just scoffs. “That isn’t true.” He grunts. “You know I can’t come out, I just can’t.” 

Louis digs his nails into his palms. “Oh, yes. Your precious reputation. Can’t forget about that when I was missing for three fucking days, and your baby’s life was at risk.” He rolls his eyes. “Are you too blind to see what’s in front of you?” Harry turns away. “Look at me, Harry!” 

“What?” Harry scowls.

“I am pregnant with your child, Harry. I’ve waited long enough to tell you and I hoped you would be as happy as I am. Obviously, I’m wrong. At least I’ve handled my part, I didn’t deny the fact that I’m having your baby or that I’m in love with you because I’m not weak like you, Harry. I don’t hide from the truth, I accept things, I accept myself.” He knew why Harry has never told him those three words, simply because he couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t accept the fact that he was gay, that he was in love with Louis and he couldn’t tell anyone or show it off. That left Louis in the dark, weeping and drowning in his love for Harry that pulsed for a man who couldn’t get over himself. Louis’ poor heart, yearning to love something, or someone and when he finally does, it goes to a rotten relationship. It was one-sided, it was futile and it was wasted.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t accept it.” Harry crosses his arms. “I don’t accept that thing.”

Louis scoffs in disbelief. “Go to hell, Harry.”

“See you there.”

Louis wanted to scream and cry in the same breath. “I never want to see you again.”

“Good.” Harry juts out his chin. “You can keep whatever is in there,” he points to Louis’ stomach, “to yourself, lonely boy.”

That nickname. The same nickname that created a tsunami of insecurities Louis never knew he had. He shakes his head. This wasn’t the Harry Louis fell in love with. This was a false persona Harry put up because he couldn’t accept the fact that he was going to be a father and that he was in love with Louis. Louis hated himself for falling for someone so self-centred and miserable. Pride was a dangerous thing, Harry had too much of it and it was ruining them. Pride, something Louis was pleased of, was going to destroy the one and only love he’s ever had. It was crumbling in his hands and Louis has to stand there and watch. “I’m leaving.”

“Then, why don’t you?” Harry edges on. His brows knitted tightly. “Why is it taking so long for you to go?”

Louis breaks all over again. His eyes welling up with tears and his hands subconsciously curling around the tiny swell under his shirt. “Because I’m a stupid fool! A stupid fool for you.” Louis cries. He could feel the burn of Harry’s sweater on his skin, he tugs it off and whips it at Harry’s face. Harry’s breath hitches but the sound are drowned out by Louis’ wreaked sobs. He sees the tan skin of Louis’ curvy body, his little tummy homing a bump that was never there and the band of his sweatpants digging into the small pudge. All blood rushes to his head, and he blinks away the lightheadedness. 

Louis loved Harry, Louis loved him so deeply he forgot to love himself. It slipped his mind that maybe Harry wasn’t right for him. Maybe he was never right for him. Maybe the handsome football captain with a voice as sweet caramel and touch as tender and warm as white sunshine wasn’t what he deserved. But, Louis was too far gone, it was too late to save himself because he had fallen headfirst into Harry’s magnetic flaming star the moment me saw him, and now he was drowning and weeping in his love for him. If only he had been smart enough two years ago, if only he had never forgiven him after the first time he tore him down. Now, Louis was scattered over the pieces of his broken heart with nothing but an emptiness submerging his head and a baby without a father.

“Stupid, stupid fool,” Louis repeats, digging through his bag on the bed and slips on his own shirt. “I’m stupid for being in love with a man who cares more about what other people think rather than his own boyfriend. You want to keep that shiny, stereotypical, straight boy reputation so bad, Harry?” Louis hiccups. “Well, you can have it.” He runs to the door, yanking the chair from underneath and swinging the door open. He halts, seeing every one of Harry’s family there with wide eyes, Winona, Edmund and Juno.

Louis sees the bewilderment on their faces, the colour drained from their cheeks and eyes the size of the moon. Louis cries harder because they heard his and Harry’s argument, they found out about their son’s sexuality and his four-month-long relationship with Louis, and the fact that he’s pregnant all at the same time. He doesn’t blame them for doing nothing as he leaves their house. He can only blame himself for thinking a baby would bring Harry to his senses. He was just a fool. 

* * *

Winona and Edmund are furious, not because Harry being gay, they accepted everyone, but they were enraged by the fact he forced Louis, a sweet soul, to hide for him and put their baby’s life at risk. They didn’t need to hear anything else because everything unravelled in Harry and Louis’ loud argument.

“You’ve changed, Harry.” Edmund paces before Harry’s bed. Harry was sitting on his bed, hands clasped in his lap, clenching the sweater Louis threw at him. The material soft under his fingers, he brought it up to his nose. It still smells like Louis. The faint scent of fresh cherry blossoms and sandalwood, a smell Harry related with peace. “You treated Louis so poorly,” Edmund wrinkles his nose, turning to his wife who stood at the door with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Making him bend over backwards for you, only for you to take advantage of him!”

Harry frowns deeply. “I did not take advantage of him.” Winona steps inside the room, feeling the tension rising, “Ed,” she calls for her husband but he has his eyes set on his son.

“You did. You took advantage of his kindness, he was willing to do anything for you, Harry. He was willing to love you in secrecy. He let himself be tortured for four months.” Edmund spits. “four months. He was open with you, he gave himself to you. And you took advantage of those gifts.” He shakes his head in disbelief, a furrow appearing on his wrinkled forehead. “Your mother and I had suspicions about the two of you since he arrived here.”

Harry looks up, tightening his hold on the sweater. “How?”

They must be lying. Harry was careful, he kept his distance. He didn’t touch Louis in front of them, he barely talked to Louis in front of them. Had he slipped up? Did this mean people at school also knew? His mother sighs softly, reaching for her husband and rubbing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You can hide a lot of things, but you can’t hide the way you look at each other.”

Harry’s throat clogs up at that. He hadn’t noticed, but not he realizes the longing glances he would catch Louis giving him. Had he been mirroring him? He must’ve if his parents have seen it. Only now does he feel the wave of despair hit him, he would subconsciously stare at Louis, never catching himself because his mind was just trained on him and only him. 

Harry would admire him, his blue eyes that Harry found himself getting lost in, his thin pink lips that were so soft and just the right amount of plump. Louis had such an exquisite side profile, with his long lashes brushing his prominent cheekbones and his button nose, and the tiniest little freckles on his cheeks. Louis’ body was a temple, his curvy hips and hourglass waist, he had a perfect portion of muscle and flesh that Harry would sink his teeth into. Goodness, Harry couldn’t describe his touch. It was so warm and soft, just pulling Harry deeper into his bottomless pool of blue eyes and high-pitched, honey-like voice. 

Harry stops breathing. His thoughts running a mile a minute, he was so dim, and so in love. He loved Louis. He loved him so deeply and he treated him horribly and Louis slipped from his fingertips. Reality hits Harry like a tidal wave. His shoulders shake with his sobs, his mother rushes to comfort him. She pulls him into her arms and Harry’s head falls helplessly in her lap. 

He was such an asshole to Louis, his first real love, his boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend and the mother of his one and only child. Harry hated himself. How could he treat Louis so cruelly, lock him in the closet with him and hope that Sundays were the perfect way to keep their relationship hidden and, foolishly, healthy. He gave Louis one day from his week, twenty-four hours when Louis gave him everything, his time, his kindness, his sweet words of warmth, his gentle tender touches, his virginity and now, a child. And Harry couldn’t get over himself and give Louis more than a day, a sad day where he could love him freely and confidently. 

Juno wanders in, cautiously so but still manages to move the attention away from Harry. “Whose book is that?” She points to the floor by Harry’s dresser. “I didn’t know you read.” He tells her younger brother.

Harry begrudgingly moves his face from his mother's lap, only to break down again upon seeing the novel on the ground. It was Louis’ book, his favourite and the one Harry saw him reading more time than he can count. He looks at the creased spine and the tattered edges, telling him how much Louis loved that book.


	6. 6

It was April. It was raining. Boston emitting strange gloomy energy on this Monday morning. People walked around in raincoats and windbreakers, umbrellas on each of their shoulders to shield from the rain. Harry left his parent’s house on Saturday, after staying a whole week away from campus and from Louis. He spent Sunday in the library at their usual table by the window. Louis never showed, he had no reason to since the headline was completed and Harry broke his heart. 

Harry walked alone to his classes, head ducked low but his gaze forever searching for a short boy draped in ratty clothing. He never found him. The next day, the same thing, it was raining and Harry had no umbrella and simply walked with his head down. Wednesday rolled around, he had been making up excuses for missing practice but Coach had decided to send him a threatening email about losing his chance at a football career and all the skills he needs to practice on. Harry agreed to attend the practice, he needed something to get his mind off the April headline that was going to drop on Friday. He walked onto the muddy field in shorts and a sweater, everyone else opting for sweatpants and a jacket. The sky hadn’t been blue for a while now, ever since Harry last saw Louis. He screwed up big time and Louis stole away the blue skies and sunshine when he walked out Harry’s life with his baby.

Tears well up in Harry’s eyes as he rubs a hand over his face. As he walks closer to his team, he hears the chattering became louder until it eventually stops. Harry is met with blank stares. “How are the folks?” One of the players ask.

“Good,” Harry nods stiffly, trying to rid his brain of the images of him and Louis cradling a tiny baby swaddled in a blanket. Maybe the baby would have Louis’ button nose or Louis’ lips, possibly if they’re lucky, Louis’ eyes. Their baby would be a heartbreaker if it looks anything like its mother. Harry’s heart sinks, taking a quick peek at the bleachers where Louis would usually sit during his practice, it was empty. Nothing but the patter of soft rain splashing on the metal. “I stayed a week longer than planned.”

“We know.” This time it was Liam, his stance straight and muscles bulging in his long sleeve shirt. Harry knows he’s trying to intimidate him since his eyes have an angry flare behind them, Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit scared.

“Why did you stay longer?”

Harry looks around again for their coach this time, trying to hide away from Liam’s scowl. “I caught a bug.” He coughs into his sleeve. When he faces his team again, he doesn’t expect to be met with a fist hurdling for his face. The breath is knocked out of him and he feels the numbing sensation spread over the entire left side of his face. Harry staggards backwards, holding his cheek and blinking rapidly through his blurry vision. He wobbles slightly, seeing a few of his peers shove Liam away, the latter’s fist still clenched tightly at his side. 

Harry finally stands upright again, stretching his face with various expressions. “Can’t even tell the truth? Don’t you even make this about yourself.” Liam’s voice booms as other players try to hold him back. Sure, they were all fit but Liam had a figure similar to a bodybuilder, Harry is surprised the punch didn’t knock him out. “You know exactly what you did, Styles. Fucking coward.”

Harry actually winces at that. He pushes away the helping hands of his friends and turns to walk off the field. The rain doesn’t cover Liam’s shouts. “You are a coward, Harry! You don’t deserve what you have.”

* * *

The headline comes out as expected. Everywhere Harry looks he sees the newspaper in someone’s hands. The cover has his name on it, his face plastered over it as he smiles in his uniform on the field. He doesn’t read it, not when it’s shoved in his face, not when it’s placed over his desk, and not when he finds one on the kitchen table in his frat house. Everyone compliments him for things he doesn’t know of because he stays far away from the article. It was written by a lovely boy who was in love with him, and Harry envisioned himself curled up in Louis’ dorm with the newspaper in his hands with the author sitting snug in his lap as they read it together. They would wait until Sunday to read it, Harry frowns deeply at the fact they even had to wait, no, the fact that Louis had to wait. 

His cheek is a wash of purple and green, nasty and ugly stretching up to under his eye. The inside of his mouth is sore since he bit it when Liam’s fist made contact with his face. He deserved it, Liam was strong as it was, and he was angry so the force had Harry icing his cheek the entire night. 

The first time he sees him, it stops his world. It was on Wednesday. Louis was at the desk in the library, his nose in a book and his glasses sitting cutely on his face. Harry watches from the sidewalk, his bag burning through his clothes as Louis’ favourite book sits at the bottom, Harry didn’t leave without it. Always hoping for a chance to return it. Louis’ hair was in a soft fringe on his forehead, sitting delicately the way it does after he’s had a shower. Harry bites his tongue, knowing that Louis isn’t smelling like him anymore. He always wore Harry’s clothes, they were warmer, bigger and didn’t have any holes in them. He always used Harry’s shampoo and body wash because it was better quality and left his skin and hair soft and smooth. He tended to steal Harry’s clothes and soap, somehow Harry’s unopened bottles of grapefruit shampoo went missing and he found them in Louis’ toiletry bag. He was starting to smell more like Harry than himself, Harry loved it. Now, Louis was back to wearing his clothes from the thrift store and using soap that would damage his sensitive skin.

Harry knew about Louis’ financial situation. Louis never told him, but he always had a slight suspicion. Louis always saying he wasn’t hungry when they went out past curfew since no one would see them together, Harry got into the habit of not asking Louis and just ordering what he knew he wanted. Louis always complaining about how expensive the bill would be, always pouting when Harry would get cheeky and spend extensive amounts of money on him, knowing well enough that he can’t give him the same treatment. Harry always surprised Louis with gifts. Bookstore gift cards, a fresh new pair of shoes, a new backpack since Louis’ was falling apart, or sometimes if he were late on Sunday, he would just gather a bunch of his clothes and throw them on Louis’ bed for the boy to pick what he wants to keep. It was a system. A toxic system because Harry thought one day out of the entire week was enough for Louis, he also foolishly thought that gifts would make up for the rest of the days they had to ignore each other on campus. 

Harry steps closer to the glass, seeing Louis’ old bookbag on the desk, not the cute red one Harry bought for him a few weeks ago. One step closer, Harry knows Louis is back to wearing his old glasses, the ones with tape on the hinges to keep it from falling apart. Harry took him to get new glasses when they started dating, he got tired of Louis carrying around a roll of tape to fix his glasses all the time. He knows Louis couldn’t help it, he was used to living the cheapest way. His parents barely scrounging enough money to send him to university, hence why he started working at the library right away. Louis talked about getting a second job, and Harry always persuaded him out of it because he knew it would be too much strain on him.

Harry breathes deeply, walking to the library door but freezes when he sees Louis’ roommate and close friend, Zayn smoking a cigarette beside a redheaded girl. Zayn’s eyes lower slits and he shakes his head so slightly it could be considered nothing but Harry purses his lips. He drops his hands by his sides, glances one more time through the window to see Louis talking to another student. Harry leaves.

* * *

  
  
He’s tried to find Louis again. But every time he’s there, so are Louis’ bodyguards. Zayn is always outside with the redhead and smoking a cigarette, or Liam is inside the library sitting in one of the chairs by Louis’ desk. It’s been two weeks since Harry found out Louis was pregnant, and every time he sees him, he tries to get the smallest glance at his tummy. Harry couldn’t fall asleep without thinking about Louis, or Louis next to him within reach where he can just drag his fingers over the swell of his tummy.

There was a different series of emotions that Harry would struggle with whenever he saw Louis. First, always first, it would be joyous because Louis was just so beautiful to look at, then it would fall onto excitement because he had a chance to see him, and of course of Louis’ bodyguards, he would feel defenceless and the last would always be at a loss.

This time though, Harry knows he has him cornered. He didn’t follow him, except, maybe he did. But he can’t let his Louis, the mother of his child walk off campus and into the city without at least checking on him. That’s all it was supposed to be, checking on him, but Harry’s been watching him for about twenty minutes as he scans through each of the books on the bookshelves. Turns out, Louis had a job interview today. It was at the bookstore in the strip by campus and Harry should have known he would apply there. He was mad that Louis was doing this to himself, though. Louis needed rest, he needed to grow Harry’s baby and make it strong and healthy. Louis’ interview was about ten minutes before he walked out, shook the shop owner’s hand and disappeared into the aisles of books. Harry overheard the owner speaking about calling Louis for a follow-up, and he bites his tongue to keep from barging between them and listing the reasons why Louis is perfect for the job. A job at the bookstore is more suited for Louis, he didn’t have to deal with late returns to students who had no clue about returning a book at all. Similar to Harry the first time they met.

Louis was in the biography section when Harry finds him again. He’s so small and thin, going on his tippy toes to read the titles at the top shelf. His long jacket hanging off his frame like a sheet, his sandy brown hair hidden by a wool hat with a white pompom. Harry looks at his feet clad in a pair of ugly boots. He thinks he should have bought him boots instead of a pair of loafers. Harry clears his throat, Louis turns to him and the colour drains from his face. 

“I think you’re looking for this.” Harry lifts the old tattered book with the creased edges. “You left it at my house.” Louis simply stares at him, a blank expression taking over his pale face. He reaches for it but Harry steps back, “you can have it if you talk to me.”

“I’ll just buy a new one.” 

“I know you won’t do that.” Louis wouldn’t do something so wasteful with his money. “You have your notes in here, little blurbs and whatnot. Can’t lose those.” Harry knows he’s pushing it but he’s won when Louis breathes from his nose, dropping his gaze to the carpeted floor. “Uh, do you want to get hot chocolate?” Louis doesn’t answer. “Right, not going to your dorm either. I guess talking here is fine. Totally fine.” Harry was rambling now. 

He tries to find his words. “I know it’s lame, it’s overused, it's lost its meaning,” Louis is still looking at the ground, “but I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Louis.” That won’t cut it, and Harry tightens his hold around the book in his hand. “You’re my favourite book.”

That gets a reaction, and Louis furrows his brows. “You don’t read.” 

“You are broken,” Harry’s head is knocked to the side with the force of Louis’ palm. “I mean that in the best way possible. You are broken,” he flinches when Louis raises his hand again but he doesn’t get hit, “You are torn and used because you are loved. Just like this book,” _ Mitch Albom's Tuesdays With Morrie _ had an ugly crease in the spine and several dog-eared pages. It was Louis’ absolute favourite. “I treated you horribly because I love you.”

“That has got to be the most fucked up thing you’ve ever said.” Louis turns, ready to leave but feels a hand grab his. The familiar warmth, the rough yet softness of Harry’s hand have his feet stalling.

“Let me rephrase, I kept you, I didn’t let go because I love you.” Only now does Louis realize Harry said them. The words Louis has always wanted to hear them from Harry’s lips in his deep voice. The words Louis has said only for Harry to change the subject or turn the other way. Never once had he expected Harry to say it with such conviction. “If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have hurt you so badly. I wouldn’t have made you do all those things for me. I wouldn’t have made you stay in the closet with me or lie for me. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have you go through hell and all this effort to stay with me, I would have let you go, but I couldn’t. All because I love you, and I want to read you over and over again.” 

It’s fucked up, it’s stupid but Louis knows the feeling. Loving a book so goddamn much that it gets destroyed with how many times it is read. Creases, underlines, highlights, and hot chocolate spills are all inevitable on Louis’ part. 

“I made you stay, forced you to stay because I love you. I didn’t want to lose you. Even though I already have. You have every right to never speak to me again, to raise this,” His gaze drops to Louis’ stomach hidden under a thick cardigan, Harry falls to his knees. His head down. “You have every right to want to raise our baby alone. Because it’s my fault, I loved you too much to set you free and instead, I trapped you with me. So I could keep you to myself. It’s because I love you that you’re hurt.” Louis has every right to push harry away, to lock him out of heaven, curse him down to hell and condemn him to a future bathed in his deepest regrets.

“Please, don’t leave me,” Harry begs. “I fucked up, Louis. Don’t get another job either, it’ll be too much. Please.” Harry hears the bell of the ding and shut. Before him, is an empty store. 

* * *

It was Sunday again. He has been attending practice and relieved some stress, and everyone in the frat house was gone and doing their own things. Harry was alone, on a day like this, he’d make Louis come over and they’d cuddle in his bed. Or Harry would cook them dinner, on the rare occasion since no one would spot them making out in the kitchen. Louis always loved his cooking, found it better than the food he stored in his dorm mini-fridge. 

Instead of cooking for Louis, kissing Louis, and touching Louis. Harry is sitting in his room at his desk. The paper is wrinkled and slightly faded from the small shop on campus Harry bought it from. He couldn’t resist.

* * *

**BOSTON UNIVERSITY NEWS: The Star, the Flame, and the Irresistible Magnet that is Harry Styles **by Louis Tomlinson

Harry Styles. A name everyone has heard being tossed around on campus. A name that sparks a character full of charisma, confidence, passion and a truly good heart. Harry was 19 when he walked onto the Boston University campus, being drawn to the nation-wide sport of football since he was just a child. Styles isn’t only a handsome face with a cashmere-sweater-voice, he’s a magnet. His force is undeniable, his persona calls for attention and eyes on him. No one can withstand his calming aura that fuses with his electric personality, creating an odd yet perfect mixture of a star. Harry is a star among other stars, but he shines brighter and bigger than his peers. He’s found in the constellation of iconic stardom along with the other players on the Boston Muskrats. 

One can call Harry a candle awaiting a light, another can say Harry is a firecracker anticipating a spark, but for those who know Harry personally, they call him a flame. He is blessed with a talent for spreading energy that causes everyone to be their best selves. He lights up everyone’s candles, fireworks, matches, and lanterns, simply because he can. Even on the field, he’s a smooth and steady fire, showcasing his enthusiasm and spirit in a calm and captivating manner. 

Styles, jersey number 28, brought the Muskrats the championship last year after a mere four months on the team. The team coach, Peter Teppi says, “When Harry came, it was like a breath of fresh air. Don’t get me wrong, the Muskrats were great before he came along but they were only great separately. Harry brought this glue to the team, he kept everyone together and on top of their game, he made sure everyone worked together as a unit in games and in practice.”

Liam Payne, Muskrats co-captain, jersey number 9 and close friend of Styles, says, “Harry’s a better captain than I was. I’m happy for him, I support him and can’t repay him for the dedication and work he’s put into the team.” He smiles fondly. “Without him, we’d be scraping the floor for goals.”

Many people on campus are attracted to Harry’s hypnotic liveliness. Even people in his classes and lectures say he’s great energy to be around during three-hour classes. There’s a fine line between a nuisance and sweet excitement in the form of amusement but Harry walks that tightrope like a champ.

In a city like Boston, there’s a fast-paced everyone has to ride. Harry is one of the few who are ready for what the world hurdles at him, always on guard, ready to make that surprise into a touchdown. 

A flame can’t start without a notch. Styles’ notch is his family. His mother, father, and older sister all agree on his warm and positive glow. “Harry is my baby, he’ll always be my little baby.” Winona, the mother of the football star gushes. “There’s a time where you just look at him, out on that field and know he was made for this. There isn’t anything else that would have suited him.” Edmund, Styles’ father who shares the same love of football with his son, agrees. “I used to play with him out in the yard, just to keep him from breaking anything inside out of boredom.” Edmund glances out the window of the kitchen. The Styles house is big and cozy, away from the bustle of the city and surrounded by a lovely neighbourhood. “Took him all over the world for games, we saw the Los Angeles Rams, Carolina Panthers. But he’s always been a Packers fan. Even got a tattoo for ‘em, I reckon.”

“Harry has always been better than me,” laughs Styles’ older sister, Juno, “He’s always had more friends, more attention is drawn to him but I wouldn’t change it for a thing. He’s golden, he needs to shine and outshine everyone. He’s always gonna be my baby brother, just gonna have to share ‘em with the world.”

Most of Boston University see Harry Styles as the school spirit embodied into one being, as opposed to the giant Molly the Muskrat mascot, Harry doesn’t need a brightly coloured costume to show his spirit. Styles’ life behind the jersey consists of his friends, family, dealing with the well-known bad cellphone service around campus and attending classes like any other student. Though, when Styles isn’t on the field, he speaks at school events and reads to children at the local elementary school. 

“Harry is happy!” Timmy, a young boy, age 4 with one of his teeth missing grins. “He talks in voices, deep like this. Or squeaky like this.” Elizabeth, a young lady with a little cast on her right leg is more in love with Harry than anyone else. “Harry lets me sit with him on the big couch,” Elizabeth gestures to the multicoloured grandpa-like chair in the school library. “I fell down a hill because I was being chased by a bee. Harry told me that bees are nice and I shouldn’t be mean to them. But I still am, don’t tell him that.”

“It’s weird,” Styles says, it’s Sunday in the middle of January. He sips on hot chocolate in the University library. “All the attention. I remember feeling like I couldn’t mess up or else I’d screw the whole team. But, I think it’s different now. I’m not on edge anymore, like I can mess up, trip on the field or miss the ball. My team made an environment where I am comfortable enough to mess up and keep going.” Styles reminisce about the memories of him as a freshman. “They’ll always have my back.”

“I can’t say I’ve never thought of it,” Styles said when asked about his professional title in the future. “I can’t say I’d hate it either. I guess it is what it is. If it happens, it happens, if it doesn’t, then there are plenty of other things I could do. I’ve always wanted to be a baker on television.” Styles is known for being quite the cook in the Alpha Chi Omega fraternity house that he shares with a select few members of the Muskrats. “I make a mean red velvet cake, everyone would be surprised that these hands are good for things other than football.” For those who’ve tried Styles’ famous red velvet would know. The others, well, they can only dream.

There’s no denying Harry is going to make it big one day, all his peer’s memories will be in the past and become his origin story. After all, stars always shine, fires always burn and nothing can stop the strength of a magnet, and when all three of those are put together, they form the golden, enthralling, unstoppable force of our captain of the Boston Muskrats. We’re all here for the ride, sitting in our seats, munching on popcorn and watching the world sit and wait for their next hurdle, a man packed with charisma and ambition. Good luck, world, here comes Harry Styles, your next touchdown, and you’re not ready for him.

* * *

Harry didn’t realize he was crying until a tear landed on the newspaper, over the last sentence of the article. He sniffles, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He had no clue Louis talked to his coach, or Liam, much less his own family and little Timmy and Elizabeth from the elementary school. Even after Harry treated him, Louis remained kind, Harry partly expected Louis to badmouth him in the article. He had every chance to, his emotions should have weighed more on anger and he could’ve channelled it to ruin Harry’s reputation in the school paper—but he didn’t. He was too good, too good for Harry and too good for the world.

* * *

  
April was over. May had just finished and all month, Harry has been busy with exams and football practice. It’s been two months and Liam still isn’t talking to him, just glaring at him from across the field, they just played a game last week, it was the finals and they won. After the last buzzer cut, Harry turned to the bleachers out of habit but the one blue-eyed boy wasn’t there. It was officially the end of the second semester and the beginning of summer break. The campus was empty, students going home for the summer. Today was Sunday, Louis worked at the library on Sundays. This time, Zayn, the redhead, and Liam were nowhere to be seen so only the few who attended summer semester courses were present to see Harry burst into the library. 

Ms. Matilda is utterly shocked to see Harry barge into the library. She glares at him from behind her glasses. “Excuse me—”

“Where is he?”

“Pardon?”

“Louis Tomlinson, where is he?” Harry quickly looks around, ready for Liam to punch him square in the face again. He hasn’t spoken to Louis since the bookstore, he’s only watched him from afar until now. He needed to talk to him again because Harry’s given this a lot of thought. Now that school was done until September, and the team played and won the finals and would be prepping for the championship, Harry was ready to quit the football team and work for their baby. He’s spent his days nose-deep in textbooks, and his late nights rereading Louis’ favourite book. He loved to see Louis’ little underlines or highlights in some paragraphs, he was even excited to see Louis’ handwriting. He knew deep down he wasn’t ready for a baby, hell, he was only 22. But he was going to make this work, he was going to raise his baby with Louis, and not let the boy overwork himself. He was going to be as good as Louis has been to him.

Ms. Matilda squints. “Louis isn’t here.”

“He works on Sundays,” Harry stated flatly. “He’s always here on Sundays.”

“Louis has asked for an extended vacation.”

“How long?” Harry asks immediately.

“Until next September,” Ms. Matilda watches Harry shift uncomfortably. “The whole summer semester. It’s unlike him to miss work, much less for that long of a period—” Harry doesn’t let her finish. He runs out of the library and nearly tramples a couple. He shouts an apology and races to Louis’ dorm. There are some stragglers, lugging around bags or suitcases which Harry trips over a few times. He takes the stairs instead and finds himself standing outside Louis’ dorm, D13. He knocks rapidly, ignoring the curious glances from other students.


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by:  
Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars  
The Hollies - The Air That I Breathe  
Ariana Grande (lol or Harry Styles) - Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart  
Lana Del Rey - Love Song  
& Harry Styles - Kiwi if you squint

_What inspired this chapter, I imagine this as the song for the trailer of this fic_: [Snow Patrol Reworked - Chasing Cars Live at the Royal Albert Hall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEeTaF7unrc)

[Spotify playlist link](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0S748EwPz4gWzS22zzq3Yy?si=8omuWFD0Q6yzUWjwExmN6A)

* * *

The door swings open, and goodness, Louis was fucking pregnant. Harry has only seen him in long oversized cardigans and sweaters that draped over his frame. Louis’ belly is the first thing Harry sees, it stretches the material of his t-shirt and Harry just wants to touch it. It looks like he’s hiding a small fruit under his shirt and, Harry almost melts. Somehow, he finds his words, but his eyes don’t move from Louis’ belly. “Where are you going?”

Louis makes a face, hiding behind the door and gulping. “None of your business.”

Harry scoffs at the defensiveness in Louis’ tone. “Like hell it is, you’re having my baby.” He takes hold of the doorknob and pushes, gently though, always so gently with Louis, it doesn’t take much for Louis to move out of the way. “Well, it’s still none of your business,” Louis stands in the middle of his empty bland dorm room with his arms crossed. He cocks his hip. “Get out, Harry.”

“Nor until you tell me where you’re going.” Harry shuts the door, not caring for when students who just saw him enter a boy’s room. “I need to know where you are going.” Louis sighs, clearly tired, “Harry, I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Then, when, Louis? You can’t ignore me forever, I want to be here and I want to be with you and our baby. You have fucking bodyguards wherever you go and how are we supposed to work this out it if can’t even talk to you?”

“Simple, we don’t work it out.”

“Then, what about closure? You of all people deserve closure.” Harry sags against the door. “After everything I said, I just need you to listen to me. Once more.”

It might’ve been his wide sad eyes or the vulnerability in his voice but Louis sits on his bed. He stays, looking at Harry for a long moment. “Who are we to you?” Louis’ tone is low, one hand reaching under his shirt, Harry watches his hand disappear under the fabric and knows it’s cradling his belly.

Harry stumbles to him, drops his knees and gravel at Louis’ feet with his hands clenching the material of his pants tightly to restrain himself from grabbing the small boy and wrapping him up in his arms. “My everything.”

“You’re lying.” The boy looks exhausted, the mother of his child is tired of him and Harry couldn’t blame him. He’s been through so much at Harry’s expense. Harry couldn’t believe the words he said to Louis the first time they broke up. He told him he wasn’t attracted to him, he hid behind hurtful words and false confidence to keep Louis away from him. He was truly every bad quality rolled into one, glued together by the hopes of trapping Louis with him in the toxic comfort of a closet with walls built with Harry’s ego. 

It was impossibly difficult for Harry to express his emotions when he was honed in on his image and reputation in the eyes of his peers. He was blindsided by the desire to keep his self-image clean to see how much Louis was in pain, how much Louis wanted to be free again. Five months, Harry held him captive in the closet of selfishness. Five long months of hiding, ignoring each other on campus and spending one day once a week together because Harry couldn’t climb over his self-made wall of greed. Harry built those walls to keep himself safe, he unknowingly barricaded himself within the confine and yanked Louis into the dark with him. Forgiveness was far too much for Harry to ask for, but here he was begging for it. Harry could crawl at Louis’ feet and he couldn’t blame or hate Louis if he shunned him. He didn’t deserve an angel like Louis, he was too good for him.

“I’m not lying,” Harry promises. “I was stupid, I am stupid. I let my anger get the better of me and I refused to believe I was in love with a boy. I couldn’t see the fact that I was hurting you by keeping you with me. I forced you to stay hidden with me without thinking about how it was affecting you.” His eyes drop to the swell under Louis’ shirt. “I couldn’t see how much pain I put you and our baby through.” Harry starts crying, and this time, he doesn’t hide or wipe them away. He lets them all freely down his cheeks.

“Who am I to you?”

Harry whimpers at the venom in Louis’ voice though he knows he deserves it. Louis was his everything, Harry would be content with his life if he spent the rest of his days with two things, oxygen and Louis. “You are the boy I fell in love with, the boy I think of during my last few moments before sleeping, the boy who never leaves my mind. The boy who has put up with my dumb shit and didn’t give up on me until I pushed him too far, and over the edge. You are the mother of my child. And because of my stupidity, I lost you.” His gaze drops to the tummy of his love. It should be a crime to hurt Louis, his silent angel. “I mistreated you, I hurt you terribly and made you think I didn’t care about you or our baby.” 

Louis frowns, he was tired of the haunting voice in his mind that repeated every hurtful word Harry said. He ignores it in favour of Harry on his knees, begging for forgiveness. “Am I yours?”

“Yes.” Harry nods repeatedly. 

“On what days?”

“Everyday.” Harry’s voice cracks. “But you are Sunday. My Sunday.” Louis’ breath hitches. Harry’s never called him anything other than his name, and the dreaded nickname of lonely boy. Tears well up in his eyes, and his lip wobbles. Sunday. The one word that started it all, that started them and all this despair. “My one and only. My sweet Sunday.” It was beautifully bathed in blue.

“I’m not giving you one day anymore, I’m giving you every day of every month of every year.” Harry bites his lip. “You are Sunday because the days I set apart weren’t for us, they were for you to show me everything I didn’t have. You are my everything yet only my Sunday.” Harry weeps and rubs his eyes roughly. Louis was his Sunday. Louis didn’t need to wait on one day of the week to spend with Harry to bask in his warmth because he was Sunday now. Louis has the ability to shine over Harry and give him sunkissed skin whenever he pleased. Harry considered Sundays to be the best days of the week because he got to spend it with Louis, but he took him for granted and now sees Louis as the best thing to ever happen to him, his own Sunday that didn’t come once a week, but that was by his side. Hopefully in the long run. 

Louis stands, shuffling away from Harry and across the room. “You didn’t think this baby was yours.”

Harry scrambles, walking on his knees toward Louis when the boy steps back. “I’m a moron, I know that baby is mine.”

“You have the strength to hurt me so deeply, I don’t want to give you that power again.” Louis’ tears are streaming down his face, “why should I listen to you?”

Harry shakes his head, his hair fanning over his cheeks. “You shouldn’t.” Louis frowns. “But you will because you’re too good for me. You are my Sunday. I will spend the rest of my life caring for you, telling you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. I know nothing can make up for the horrid, ugly things I’ve done and said, but I can try. If you give me a chance, I will succeed and give you everything you deserve.” The sincerity in his voice clogs up Louis’ throat. His blue eyes pool with sadness and Harry just wants to hold him. 

“Why haven’t you said that to me before?”

“I haven’t told you how I really feel because I was scared, scared of the truth and confronting my feelings. I couldn’t find the words to say what I mean and it took losing you to see what I had, to see what you gave me.” Harry hopes it makes sense. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking—begging for you to come back to me. Even if it’s only a bit, even if it’s just awkward friends, and I have to watch you go on and date other people, at least let me see our baby,” Harry takes a deep breath. “That would be okay. Because at least I’ll have a little bit of your forgiveness.” He laughs humorously, the tears obscuring his vision. “And if you’re willing to give me a small—little bit of your heart again, I’ll give you all of me, fully me, only me. Commitment, jealousy, love, everything will be all yours.”

That’s all Louis’ ever wanted. He’s dreamed of having Harry to himself, he’s cried himself to sleep over not having all of Harry. And here he was, the man of his fantasies, the man who held, cradled, and tore his heart, the father of his child and he was on his knees. He was saying everything Louis’ ever wanted. “W-What about my baby?” Louis hiccups.

“Our baby.” Harry corrects, itching to touch and caress the skin of Louis’ belly. “I will do the same for our baby, I can’t forget about them.” He couldn’t bear the thought of parting with Louis again. He was miserable and deeply in love. 

A knock on the door disrupts their intense eye contact. “Louis,” it was Liam, just lingering by his door with his bags packed by his feet and a pair of sunglasses on his head. “C’ mon, told the folks we’d make it there by tonight. They don’t want us staying in a motel.”

Louis blinks rapidly, taking a small but heartbreaking step away from Harry, he hadn’t noticed how close they got. “Sure, take my bags will you?” Harry could almost feel the sting of Liam’s fist on his cheek, it healed now but the emotional hurt lingered. Liam nods once, picking up Louis’ two pieces of luggage and one backpack. “What about that one?”

Louis looks, seeing the bag Harry bought for him. The red one with little cute buttons and patches on the front pocket. He stacked it with all his favourite books, except for the one Harry still had. “I’ll take it.”

“You want me to…” Liam trails off, glancing at Harry. Louis gulps, “I’m fine, I’ll be down in a minute.” Liam leaves after one last look at Harry, and the room goes tense again. Harry faces Louis and hates the distance between them. “Is that all?”

Harry looks up, digging his nails into his thighs to keep from grabbing Louis and squeezing him tightly. “I don’t know how else to make you stay.” He’s begged, pleaded, cried, he’s offered everything. Even with that, he doesn’t expect Louis to forgive him. 

“You haven’t even asked.” Louis pouts, grabbing a sweater off the bed and slipping it on. Harry chokes when he recognizes it as his own. His first-year university sweater with the logo of the football team plastered on the front. It was well worn and stretched, there was a hole in the elbow from when it was snagged. The large fabric hid Louis’ belly, and the sleeves fell well passed his fingertips. He finds his voice again, “asked what?”

Beats pass, just their eyes holding until Louis breaks the silence. “It’s a boy.” Harry crumbles at that. It brought reality in the form of a tornado, taking Harry’s breath from his lips and he cries harder because why the hell didn’t he ask. He pulls at his hair, “How far are you?”

Louis licks his lips. His sweater paw hands crossing over his chest. “Almost 17 weeks.”

“Can I,” Harry’s tone goes soft, his gaze locked on Louis’ tummy. “May I?”

Louis wants to say no but the wide-eyed man held that same power over him, and Louis slowly lifts his shirt. Harry’s breath hitches, Louis proved he could be even more enchanting. His tanned skin stretching over a bump no bigger than a maybe a small ball. His unmarred skin was glowing in the dim light, beauty marks scattered over the round swell. Harry just wanted to touch it, feel the hardness beneath his fingers. “It’s beautiful,” Harry reaches but retracting a second later, “Can I touch?” His gaze locked on the hump of Louis’ tummy. “No,” Louis’ tone is chopped and his shirt falls.

“Why?” Harry felt stupid, his brain overridden by the gracious tiny swell of his boy. Louis steps away, hurting Harry with every movement as he gathers his things and lingers by the doorway. “Do you really love me?” Louis’ sad blue eyes will be burned in the walls of Harry’s mind.

Harry couldn’t explain how much he did love Louis. He loved him like a child loves their favourite stuffie, like two young best friends love each other like the sun loves the sky, like the moon loves the stars like the waves love the shore, and like a fucking alcoholic loves the numbing sensation of being drunk. “You have no clue how much I do.” It was simple, Harry can spend endless days and nights apologizing and telling Louis his feelings. Even with the water obscuring his vision, Harry sees Louis leave in his baggy clothes and messy hair. Even when he walks out of Harry’s life, he manages to look heavenly doing so.

* * *

Liam merely glances at Louis as he gets into the car. His brows shot to his hairline, "Where is he?"

Louis sniffles, rubbing his nose with his sleeve, "He said he loves me."

The brown-eyed man starts the car, "And?"

"I don't believe him."

"Well," Liam breathes, "you not believing him doesn't make it any less true." He starts driving, Louis looks out the window with his bag on his lap. "What would he have to gain by lying to you?"

Louis shrugs, the students around campus were all smiling. They deserved happiness, the happiness that always slipped from Louis' fingers whenever he tried to catch it--maybe they had nets to catch it successfully, Louis didn't have a net or the energy to attempt to catch it again.

"Me."

Harry had the power to bring Louis to his knees, and it was taking every little bit of self-control for Louis to deny him. Louis didn't want to think of all the songs about moving on he's been blasting non-stop for the past month. Journey's _"I'll Be Alright Without You"_ was repeating over and over again off the walls of his brain. Forgiving Harry would be going against the words sung, Louis deserved better. The only question was if he wanted better.

"Do you want him to get you back? Do you want him back?" Liam keeps pestering him. "I think if he didn't mean it, he wouldn't stalk you for a month."

Louis' stomach churns. He was well aware of Harry's small obsession with him in their time apart. He never saw Harry but he knew when he was near, it was a prickle in his skin or a simple shiver up his spine. "I'm having his baby."

"You are." Liam nods, eyes on the road. They're getting closer to the edge of campus, and further away from Harry. "If Harry didn't care, or was lying, then why put so much effort into you."

Louis rubs his eyes. "I'm so sad, but he makes me happy and I love how I feel with him. He hurt me, I felt helpless and used. He said mean things but everything that he's saying now is so lovely. I want it on a record." He feels the tears coming back. "I want to listen to him apologize and tell me how much he loves me—but is it bad that the fact he hurt me makes it sound so beautiful?"

"Maybe that's the sound of your love song," Liam says, "it isn't the ideal love song, not polished or ready for the radio, but it's yours. It's a unique one at that."

Louis doesn't leave campus or the school property. Liam drives him back to his dorm, knowing that he can't leave Louis miserable, Harry can be left in a hole for all he cares but his sweet best friend didn't deserve to spend the whole summer wondering, thinking and crying about Harry. Liam had to help them find their way back to each other, for the sake of themselves and the baby on the way.

When Louis walks into his dorm, he sees a curved figure on his bed. The chestnut curls curtained over the man's eyes as he buried his face into Louis' pillow. The room was vacant, as were most of the dorms in the dormitory. Students leaving to begin their summer break, hoping for the best time of their lives while Harry lies crying in Louis' bed.

The moment Louis steps into the room, Harry's shoulders stiffen.

"There's a lot of things I can't do in the world." Louis couldn't do math, he preferred words and stories over numbers and rulers. Louis couldn't cook for sure, burning down anything in the kitchen, even making something as simple as eggs. Louis couldn't give up his baby for adoption, his one good thing in the world, he couldn't raise a baby alone, and most of all, he couldn't leave Harry weeping in his bed. "One of them is to stop loving you."

Even after everything, Louis couldn't live without Harry. It was their terrible, ugly, enchanting and addicting love song. The one that goes on repeat for hours on end, the one that's impossible to get sick of. It was bad. It was loving. It was Harry's voice over the beating of Louis' heart. It was theirs.

Harry's face separates from the pillow. "Louis," his voice wreaked. "Please tell me you're staying." His cheeks red, eyes redder and lips reddest. All the features of his face showing much he was hurting, how much he was relying on Louis' next words.

"I'm not." Louis steps closer, the familiar pressure of having Harry's eyes on him comforting him. "Neither are you." His shoulders sagged. Harry sits up, still clenching the pillow in his hands. "I've gone through a lot these past few weeks, we've gone through a lot," Louis' hands curled around his small belly that protruded from his sweater. "I've gone through a lot for you—"

"Louis,"

"Wait," he holds up a hand, "Wait, just let me," he sighs. "I waited for you, Harry. I went through shit and came out a mess. You made me think there was something wrong with me, but I know that's just you projecting your insecurities on me." Louis gulps. "It would hurt less to hate you than to love you.You cut me deep, Harry."

"I'm sorry." Harry knows that word won't make up for anything he's said and done, but it was a start.

"I waited so long for a love that never came, I waited for you to come around and realize how much I meant to you. I figured you would accept the truth when you found out I'm pregnant. I thought of you as a... a god, Harry. I held you so high on a pedestal that I forgot I was supposed to be on one too, standing with you and holding your hand. I fell for a love that wasn't there and fooled myself into thinking that waiting was the only way."

"I'll hold you high," Harry promises, eyes begging. "I'll hold you so high, Louis. You won't ever touch the ground."

"That's not what I want." Louis lets out a frustrated cry, he pulls at his hair because it was so hard to not cuddle up to Harry on his bare mattress. "I want a real relationship. I want to be shown off and I want to show you off, I want you to be confident with me, I want to kiss you in public and dance with you in bars. I want to bring you home for Christmas and kiss you under the mistletoe. I want to go to your family's house for New Years and I want you to kiss me when the clock strikes twelve." Louis was crying now, he clenches his teeth. "I want to be with a man who isn't afraid to show the world he is in love with another man."

If someone told Harry a year ago that he would be begging the mother of his child, the man of his dreams for a second chance, he would laugh in their face. That Harry was terrified of the world knowing of his attraction to men, he would rather mock and bully any gay person than come out as one himself. It wasn't how he was raised but it was how he was influenced. With media and friends seeing being gay as a sin, as a disease and as something to be shunned. He grew fearful of showing his true colours and shining with them glittering off his skin. He grew fearful of having pride.

"I don't want you to force yourself to be with me because of my baby." Louis' chest slows, he's trying to control his breathing. "I want you to be with me because you are ready to, and because you want to be."

"I-I'm ready," Harry hiccups, hastily wiping his eyes. "I want this, I promise."

"I'm not going to wait for you, Harry." Louis' voice is stern. "I'm done waiting for a love that's no good for me and my baby. I'm never waiting for your love again."

He now knew how desperate he was, thinking that having a little bit of Harry was better than having none. He failed to see the pain lingering behind the facade of being with a man he's loved for months. He was a fool for him. At the moment, it seemed like a dream come true. Like nothing couldn't tear him down, but he was never built up, to begin with. There was no tearing down what was already gravelling at the floor for Harry, while the man he loved took and took his love until there was nothing left. 

It wasn't right to have a little bit of a person when you give them all of you. It wasn't healthy, it was sad drenched in blue and black and sold for half it's worth. Love was never easy, no one said it was, and Louis learned the hard way. 

"You don't have to wait. I'm here, Louis." Harry's voice held heavy sincerity. He wanted to shout his love for Louis off the rooftops, and go on every radio station and broadcast that he was in love with a man and that man was pregnant with his child. 

"I think that I know what you mean. You didn't want to let go of me, and you hurt me by doing so. I guess I'm the same, I couldn't let go of you, because I love you." Louis takes a deep breath.

"You should have."

"What?"

Harry stares longingly into Louis' eyes, the blue was so beautiful, he was always lost in it. It was calling for him like the shore calls the waves. He was memorizing every part of Louis' face in fear this would be their last meeting. "You should have let me go." His voice wavers. 

Harry digs his nails into his palms. "You shouldn't have held onto me for so long. Someone who made you hide and someone who made you wait. You deserve someone who is willing to do anything you want, someone who will kiss you in front of their friends, go on double dates and take you on holidays with their family. You deserve someone who will listen to you read a fucking phone book because it's your voice! You deserve someone who will wear ugly matching costumes for Halloween and even uglier sweaters for Christmas!" He was getting hysterical, he releases his palms, feeling the burning sensation. "You deserve someone who will step out of the dark, into the light and shine with you. You don't deserve someone like me. You deserve better."

Louis licks his lips, tasting the saltiness of his tears. "I don't want better."

"You deserve it, Louis. You deserve it so fucking much." Harry stands, walking passed Louis and to the door. He reaches for the knob but feels a force turn him around and shove him against the wall. 

"Harry! Can't you understand me?" Louis steps up to him, poking him in the chest. "I don't want better, why would I want better if I know you can give me better?" His voice was softer now, almost a whisper. "Why would I want anyone but you?"

Harry breaks down all over again, he's given himself a headache from crying so much. "I hurt you, Louis."

"And, you won't do it again." Louis lays his palm flat on Harry's chest, feeling his heartbeat under the fabric of his shirt. "You know what you did, and you know what I want. You're going to give me what I want because if you don't, you'll never see me again." Louis' drops his hands by his sides. "There's a lot of things we need to talk about, but I can't ignore you for the rest of my life when I'm having your baby."

"Our baby." Harry's eyes search Louis' for any sort of giveaway like this was all a prank and he's going to walk out his life again.

Louis has never thought he could love Harry's voice more, but now hearing him say those words, it was possible.

"I shouldn't forgive you, not after what happened and what you said. But you just," he breathes deeply through his nose, "I know you're _it_ for me, Harry. There is no one better, I don't want better, I just want you. Being human is a challenge, we're emotional, insecure, dependent and vulnerable. It takes more effort to be human than to be anything else and I'd want nothing more than to be human with you." Louis leans close, "Love is never easy, but we can beat every obstacle together. It'll take a while." Harry nods slowly.

"I don't want you to miss any part of this," he toes closer to Harry, the man desperately grabbing Louis' hands when he's within reach. "And I have a long time of looking like this, and I think that's enough time for us to work things out."

Harry breathes heavily and falls to his knees, the tears rolling down his cheeks. He holds Louis' hand tightly as if he's going to fly away, Harry wants to keep him. Louis steps closer, letting Harry hold him as close as he pleases. Harry's shoulders fall into a slow rhythm and his warm breath seeps through the fabric of Louis' clothes. Louis' fingers trace over Harry's shoulder, the ache fading away into a new foundation for them to work together and build a tower of faith and paint it with each other's love.

Harry was in the light now, he was basking in Louis' burning radiance and he was shining. He'd happily get a sunburn if it meant years in Louis' brilliance because he was out of the dark and he was shining. He was fucking shining.

Louis hasn't forgiven Harry but he's willing to try, not only for their baby but for the better of himself. He was dependent on Harry, so much it could be considered an obsession, it wasn't healthy and Louis felt like he was dying every day without him. But he couldn't forget about him, not even if he tried if he wiped his brain--Harry would linger like the sunset over hilltops.

"Plus, you still have my favourite book."


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost done. this would've had smut if I didn't spend so much time on angst.

Liam is frowning but he doesn’t look surprised when Harry is trailing after Louis from the dormitory. He gets out and opens the passenger door, making sure Louis doesn’t hit his head on the way in, he is fairly clumsy though he’s pregnant. Liam thought pregnancy was supposed to make a mother more aware, Louis, on the other hand, was still his accident-prone self.

Harry slips in the backseat, carrying Louis’ bag. Liam’s car is fairly clean, and in the entire time they’ve known each other, Harry has never been in his car before. If only the tension wasn’t wrapping around his neck like a boa constrictor. 

“We have to stop by Alpha Chi house.” Louis breaks the silence as the car starts. Liam doesn’t glance in Harry’s direction, “Why?” Louis yawns softly into his hand, crying tends to make him tired, “Harry’s got to pack a bag as well.”

Harry ignores Liam’s grunt in annoyance and opts to smile to himself. It felt lovely to hear Louis say his name in his sweet sleepy voice. He drags his fingertips over the patches on the boy’s bag, a rainbow, tiny ‘L’, a cat and Harry’s favourite--a little stack of pancakes from a Sunday morning where they went an hour and a half up North to have breakfast for their two month anniversary. Harry has never been in a relationship with a man, Louis told him that he would guide him through it. He seemed content with Harry being in the closet, his face never changing a shade when Harry mentioned they couldn’t talk on campus, other than their Sunday sessions. 

He should have noticed, he shouldn’t have thought of dating Louis unless he was trusting that he can give him what he deserved. Things weren’t ever going to be the same, Harry knew that when they return for next year, everyone will know about him and Louis. Harry was going to come out, he was going to bring Louis back to his parent’s house for a real impression, he was going to be the shoulder, the man, the boyfriend that Louis needed. Harry was going to make things right, for the mother of his child and the love of his life. His Louis, his sweet dream, his Sunday.  
  


* * *

Harry woke up to crying. Sweet crying coming from next to him, behind him to be exact. He checks the time, 4:07 AM. He blinks before turning around, the covers moving off his body. “Louis?”

The crying was replaced with small sniffles. “Harry.” God, Louis’ voice was perfect when he cried, Harry knew it made him sound like an asshole but it was mixed with the perfect amount of rasp, squeak, and softness.

“Get on the bed.” It was late, they arrived at the Payne residence around midnight because Harry spent too long deciding if he should pack clothes for himself, or he should pack clothes that would look cute on Louis. Liam’s parents went to bed before they arrived, and the three university students ate in silence at the dinner table.

Harry had originally planned to sleep on the couch in the living room since he didn’t know the Payne’s and there was only one guest bedroom. But after Liam retreated to his old bedroom, Harry curled up on the sofa until he woke up and saw Louis asleep in the armchair. He vaguely remembered Liam walking Louis to the guest bedroom because the man returned with blankets and pillows for Harry.

Harry had woken Louis up with a few gentle shoves and walked the boy back to the bedroom. Then, Louis looked up at him with the most tired, wide blue eyes and said he didn’t want to sleep alone. Hence, Harry sleeping on a make-shift bed on the floor of the guest bedroom.

Now, he was crying in a small bundle next to Harry on the carpet floor. “The bed is too big.”

Harry stares for a moment. The moonlight shining through the curtains and dancing over the right side of Louis’ face. His pouty lips begging for attention. “The floor isn’t good for you.”

Louis starts crying again, and Harry is almost afraid enough to call Liam. “No,” Louis sobs. “Want Zayn.” Harry frowns, sitting up. “Zayn knows how to hold me.”

A deep weight fills Harry’s chest, his eyes dropping to Louis' small tummy protruding from under his shirt. He had done a bit of research during the long drive to the Payne residence. His baby was about the size of a pomegranate, Louis was almost four months and Harry can only dream of how adorable their baby looks. He spends ten minutes, sleepily building a makeshift pregnancy pillow for Louis out of spare blankets and throw pillows. Louis’ crying has softened to small whimpers as he buries himself in a lump of the bed. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted, he couldn’t touch Louis or cuddle him. He needed to work up to that, and he was willing to try for however long it takes.  



	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter. hope everyone enjoyed it. big time skip. like six months

It was October. 

“Louis! We’re going to be late!”

The end of October. Halloween to be exact.

“Sunday!” Harry observes his reflection, fixing the band of his yellow shorts. “If you aren’t down here in ten seconds, I’m going to--”

“Calm down, geez.” Louis’ voice comes from upstairs. He emerges from Harry’s room, more like his room from the number of his own belongings scattered across the floor. He holds the underside of his belly and reaches the top of the stairs and holds the railing. 

Harry smiles, that same genuine smile he gives Louis when he wakes up in the middle of the night for a snack. “Need help?”

Louis glares, gesturing wildly to his slightly-bigger-than-a-basketball sized bump. “What do you think?”

Harry simply laughs and leads Louis down the stairs with a hand on his back. “You look so cute.” He gushes. Louis huffs, finally making it down the stairs in one piece. He swears it gets longer every day, “I think it’s too tight, your sister is smaller than me.”

The green-eyed man presses a soft kiss to Louis’ sweaty forehead. He was always sweating for some odd reason. “Eh, maybe it’s all that delicious squish you put on, Sunday.”

Their baby was due soon, a few days to be exact, and not making any moves to leave the warm comfort of Louis’ tummy yet. Harry continuously told Louis how their baby had every right to never leave Louis (Louis would disagree, he just wanted to hold his baby already) and if it were up to Harry, Louis would remain pregnant and delicious—though he was always delicious—for the rest of their lives. Louis would always cry about not seeing his toes.

“Squish,” Louis mocks, “I can’t fit into any of my old clothes.” Harry presses a kiss to his nose, “That’s why you have mine.”

Louis sticks his tongue out. “Let’s just go before I get too tired.”

Harry immediately ushers him out. He’s struggled endlessly with an exhausted Louis, a Louis who was too tired to get out of bed and woke Harry up at all hours of the night for his cravings. Harry wouldn’t give up Louis’ wacky cravings of the weirdest things- “Cottage cheese and what?” “Strawberries and tangerines, not clementines, they make me sick.” -Especially after how long it took Louis to let them sleep in the same bed, even longer for them to sleep in Harry’s bed at his frat house.

“Where are the guys?”

Harry grabs his hand and they walk down the sidewalk. His headband is crooked but Louis can’t fix it with the extra weight strapped onto his stomach, he’s still not used to feeling like a whale. “They already left, said they wanted to scope out the chicks.”

Louis hums, yawning into his hand. He feels tried already and they haven’t even reached the gym yet. He walks--waddles, in his jeans and with that ugly grey plaid skirt. “God, why did your sister even have this costume?”

“Well, her name is Juno. I believe she wore that three years in a row.”

Louis glances up at Harry, standing tall in his red shirt, yellow shorts and white socks. “Why do you have shorts that short?”

“I ordered them online, got the wrong size.” Harry answers. “You got a little,” he licks his thumb before swiping it along the corner of Louis’ lips, he brings his finger up to his mouth. “Mhm, chocolate again?”

Louis blushes. “I couldn’t resist.” He looks down, wrinkling his nose at the big hump under his orange and white striped shirt. 

* * *

It’s nearly midnight. Louis is sitting by Liam and his date, Zayn. They finally got together after Louis planned a double date and Liam wanted to supervise. Louis woke up to Liam and Zayn naked in Zayn’s bed. He called Harry and went out for breakfast and didn’t return until the next morning to collect a new novel to read. It had been a memorable experience for all parties. Louis will never forget the awkwardness in the air after that.

They all went to the washroom, well, Louis went to the washroom since his baby is literally pressing on his bladder while Zayn and Liam stood outside. They leave the restrooms and Louis is in the middle of talking about the headline he’s responsible for. The beloved Christmas headline, the 12 Days of Christmas. The headline he’s prepared to slave over for the month. He walks back into the gym between Liam and Zayn, only to notice the music is no longer playing and it’s replaced with shouts. It takes less than a second for Louis to see that Harry isn’t by the dessert table like before, instead, he’s in the middle of the crowd, slamming his fist into another man’s face. 

Louis waddle-runs, pushing and shoving his way to the centre of the crowd with the help of Liam and Zayn. He grunts, shielding his belly from the larger and taller students, only to see Harry get tackled to the ground. Every bone in his body goes stiff as the man punches Harry’s face several times, Louis is frozen until Liam roughly pulls the guy off Harry and shoves him down.

Louis drops to his knees carefully, rubbing a hand over Harry’s red face. Frowning at the new slit in his brow. “Harry, what the fuck?”

Harry’s eyes are cloudy, he blinks several times while Zayn helps him to stand. Harry limps as they exit the gym, everyone watching them go and Liam corner the other man who remained in the center of the crowd. Zayn releases Harry when he shoves him away, he gives Louis a pained look and leaves quietly. 

The October air is cold, but refreshing in contrast to the stuffy atmosphere of the gym. Louis fans his cheeks, holding his belly. Harry’s chest is puffing, his face hidden by the shadows of the night. “You have to stop fighting.”

“Louis,”

“I’m being serious, Harry. This is the third time this semester. You’re lucky the dean favours you so much.”

“I can’t let them say what they say.” Harry huffs in frustration, stepping away and yanking the headband off his head. His hair looking wild. “They make me so fucking mad.” He sits on a nearby bench, putting his head into his hands.

Louis sighs softly and follows after him, his maternal instincts taking over as he cuddles Harry to his chest. His head rests on his recently grown breasts. “The world isn’t going to fall at your feet, Harry. You’ve got to be strong enough to hold your head high and show them you have no care and no room for their negativity.” Harry disagrees, “They called us names, Louis.”

“It’s not my first time being called a name like that.” 

Harry whines at the memories he hates dearly. When he was so mean and inconsiderate to Louis. If he could go back in time, he would treat him like a prince. “It’s not right Louis. They’re so ignorant.” Louis hums, “I know. Let them be sad and ignorant, you know you’ve got nothing better to do when you start spitting slurs.”

“I can’t let them talk about you like that.” 

“Then, violence isn’t the answer.” Louis was aware Harry was new to this whole openly-gay-status. He didn’t have much of a tolerance as Louis, Harry constantly pointed out how Louis shouldn’t have tolerance at all. There shouldn’t be a need for either of them to tolerate anything but respect. Louis agreed wholeheartedly, but Harry had fists as strong as his heart and he used them far too often. “You have so many other good things going for you, why always focus on the negatives?”

“Dunno.” Harry murmurs, knowing Louis is completely right.

“List them.”

“No.”

“List them.”

Harry grunts, tugging Louis onto his lap and burying his face into his neck. “My family, coach and the team and, frat brothers accept me.”

“They do.” Louis agrees, watching the street lights flicker. “Go on.” He runs his fingers through Harry’s sweaty hair.

“I know how to bake pecan pie without the recipe. I have a steady workout schedule. I have the highest mark in all my classes, except English.” Louis pinches his ear. “I’m searching for a new English tutor.” Louis yanks at his hair, “I always end up with your dick in me whenever I try to tutor you.” The pregnant boy grumbles, “list one more thing before I pull your hair out.” Harry resumes to his spot in Louis’ neck. “I found an apartment for us.”

Louis freezes, it’s not the weather and it’s not watching Harry get pummeled by some guy. “Don’t you dare lie--”

“I’m not.” Harry moves away to look at Louis in his eyes. Those blue eyes that glowed even in the night of Boston. “Well, I didn’t find it. Juno did. Not find, I mean, it’s her old apartment from when she went here. She’s moving in with her boyfriend and is selling her old place.” Louis’ lips part. “It’s not far from here, don’t even need to drive here and back but we can since you don’t like walking too long.” He knew everything about Louis. “Juno said she’d give me a discount since we’re related but I actually think she’s going to jack up the price for all the times I stole her jewelry to give to my elementary school girlfriends when I thought I liked girls.” Louis giggles.

“It’s got a master bedroom and a smaller one for our little one.” Harry continues. “A nice kitchen so I can finally teach you how to cook without the boys taking you away from me, I asked our counsellor and she can set something up for us in the daycare here if we need it but my parents are more than happy to watch over him. They also agreed to help pay for hydro and all that during the first couple of months while we’re busy with school. I asked for a day off next week so we can go check it out together, I also want to decorate with you. I have lots of pictures printed out of us, from your maternity shoot and Zayn agreed to help out if we wanted more so we can hang up--” Harry is cut off my Louis’ lips. 

Harry hums in delight, “I hope that’s a yes and that you’re happy and totally not going to hit me in the balls because Coach wants to train our son the moment he’s out of you.” Louis pulls away, smiling so hard his cheeks ache, “Did you sell our son to your coach?”

“He said I was being too mopey without you and wants to know when you go into labour.” Harry’s dimples appear. “Said he’s happy to have a grandson.”

* * *

It’s November. Harry already showered before curling up in the sheets again. He stares at Louis until the latter trudges, waddles, Harry loved how he waddled to the bathroom, later appearing with a little bit of toothpaste on the corner of his lips. “Good morning.” Louis squeaks out a yawn. Reaching out to run a delicate finger over the cut in Harry’s brow. “You feeling okay?” He falls into bed again.

“Yeah,” Harry rasps, not hiding the fact he was staring at Louis sleeping. “You hungry?”

“Always hungry.” Louis murmurs, he’s in that soft sleep state where Harry could ask for anything and he would agree. “Want pancakes.” Harry climbs over him, their limbs tangling in the sheets and Harry’s abs pressing against his stomach. “And bacon, watermelon and whipped cream, and exactly four baby carrots.”

Harry listens intently. “You know what today is?”

“All Saints' Day.”

“Besides that,” Harry mumbles against the skin of Louis’ neck. 

“All Hallows' Day, the Feast of All Saints.” Louis lists in a mocking manner, he traces his fingers through Harry’s hair. It’s gotten longer, almost to his shoulders. 

“I hate that you know all that.” Harry laughs quietly, caressing Louis’ side with one hand. “Let me guess, you wrote a headline on it too?”

“I did,” Louis confirms, tugging a little, giggling when Harry bites his neck. He’s ticklish, and his boyfriend takes advantage of it. “Not my best work but Joseph liked it.”

“Ugh,” Harry pulls away with a frown. “Fucking Joseph. Stop calling him that.”

“You aren’t the boss of me.”

Harry sighs, returning to his home in the crook of Louis’ neck. He loved it there. Always so warm, smelling like sweet caramel on a sundae, or sometimes like peppermint. He liked the peppermint more because it was his own smell that had begun to rub off on Louis. “I know.”

“Hallowmas.”

“What?”

“It’s Hallowmas, yes?”

Harry rolls them over. Louis sits high on his lap, shirtless with his nine-month tummy out. Their baby was due soon, possibly too soon as in within the next two days, but taking up all the time in the world in Louis’ belly. They were more than prepared, half of Harry’s room was cleared out and a bassinet with a changing table was set up. They bought reusable diapers, normal diapers just in case because Louis is paranoid, and the cutest little toys and clothes. Harry immediately brings both hands to grasp the roundness. His left hand going to Louis’ back, knowing he gets sore there. “It’s our day.”

“Is it?” Louis shifts, Harry’s always had morning wood but today it was exceptionally hard. Harry bites his lip, eyeing Louis’ breasts. His nipples had gotten swollen and sensitive, and Harry loved the noises he made when he sucked on them, “It’s Sunday, Sunday. How could you forget?”

“Sunday.” Louis echos. “My day.”

“That’s right.” Harry smiles up at him, his hand fanning around his head. Louis looks out the window, it was cloudy as it was during October and November. The chilly autumn season. “It’s not sunny, I don’t want to go outside.”

“I’ve got to go buy pancake mix.” Harry especially loves how Louis looks in the morning. All tiny and enchanting. His eyes always brighter in the early hours, cheeks a little pinker, lips a little more kissable. Louis pouts, “There’s no sun. That means it’s cold.”

“Mhm, I don’t think so.” Harry yanks Louis down, gently. He kisses him like he’s kissed him a billion times and always makes it just as passionate. “I’ve got my sun right here.”

“Of course, he’s in my belly.”

“No. Well, yes but I was talking about you.” Harry wrinkles his nose when Louis' finger tickles his ear.

“That’s a new one.” Louis murmurs against his lips. The bedsheets fall to his hips, his hands going to Harry’s jaw, lightly scratching over the stubble that’s grown. “I’m the sun?”

“Nah,” Harry bites on his boyfriend’s bottom lip, tugging. “Just my sun.” Harry could die like this. Under his pregnant, adorable, squishy boyfriend in his frat house bedroom while the November wind blows around the red, yellow, orange and brown leaves outside. The world doesn’t wait, months go on, seasons change, years pass, but that was okay because Harry had his Louis, his sunshine, his sun, his Sunday, his boy who puts the sun in Sunday. His boy was nine months pregnant, about to pop and their baby would be here any day.

Louis flops off Harry, curling up in the sheets and the pregnancy pillow Harry bought for him. “Well, go on. I asked for pancakes, didn’t I?”

”What if your water breaks when I’m gone-” As if on cue, Louis gasps, which eventually turns into a loud screech. Harry’s brain goes into overdrive, he falls off the bed, crashing to the floor and stands. “What the fuck?!” He fumbles around the bed for wetness and comes up empty. He glares at Louis. “I’m so sick of you.”

Louis remains on the bed, not in labour and completely pregnant. He shrugs, “Lovesick, that is.”

“Your karma is going to be childbirth.”

”Oh, shut up.” Louis cackles when Harry’s fingers dig into his ribs. “Stop! If you do that,” he squirms, “I will pee all over your bed!” 

Harry wrinkles his nose, moving away. “Nasty.”

”Then don’t tickle your pregnant boyfriend.”

Harry scoffs, standing in his boxers and ignoring Louis’ wandering gaze. “Have you thought of any names?”

The blue-eyed boy wiggled in the sheets, “Yes. But I’m not telling you.” Harry walks around the bed and towards his closet to get dressed for the day. He’d rather not show the entire house his boner from his pregnant boyfriend. “Why not?”

“Don’t wanna,” Louis answers with a yawn, Harry hopes he’ll still be awake by the time he comes back. Louis hates cold food. “Before you go, I finished my stack of books and I didn’t want to go back to my dorm, it’s too far so I checked in your bookbag for something to read.” Louis looks so calm, in Harry’s sheets with his hand caressing his huge stomach. “I don’t know why I even bothered looking, you don’t read.”

Harry’s breath hitches, he whips around with his sweatpants up one leg. He nearly falls back into his closet—pun not intended. “Sunday,”

“Are you going to tell me why I found a little red velvet box in your bookbag?”   
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy all ! I REALLY HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYED THIS !! please tell me your thoughts bc i'd love to hear them Xx


	10. Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the epilogue. I hope you all enjoy it. There's smut. Thank you for getting this far, I've been told that this story has made people cry and that is the biggest compliment ever. Thank you for everything. -jasmine.

[ADELE - 'Make You Feel My Love'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0put0_a--Ng)

[Spotify Playlist Link](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0S748EwPz4gWzS22zzq3Yy?si=fKm1rUvmTEWGkHoO5CCtDQ)

* * *

"Morrie, stop that right now."

"No!"

"Don't talk to me that way."

"Harry," Louis pops his head into his son's bedroom. He giggles at his husband attempting to fit their toddler into a pair of mustard slacks. "Harry, give him Jimothy."

"What?" Harry turns around, his recently cut hair is a short mess on the top of his head. It used to be at his shoulders but Morrie kept tugging on it, thinking it was so funny how his father's face would scrunch up. "Who's that?"

Louis sighs dramatically, waddling into the room and struggling to bend over to pick up his son's prized panda stuffed animal. He supports his back and carefully hands the stuffie to Morrie who was still wiggling in Harry's grip.

"Ma!" Morrie cries. "Mama," He pouts deeply. He's released from Harry's hold and runs into Louis' legs, jumping to be picked up.

"Bug, you know mama can't pick you up anymore," Harry says gently. "He has a belly, remember?" He stands from being crouched over, working out the knot in his back.

"It just food." Morrie's eyes are set on Louis' six-month pregnant belly. He glares at it.

"Not food," Louis corrects, running his fingers through his son's curly hair. "It's your new sibling, baby."

Morrie frowns, his lips twisted in a scowl. Louis adores it when he gets grumpy, he's so darn cute. Harry, on the other hand, disapproved of his son showing such a harsh emotion at such a young age.

"Food, mama."

Harry smiles softly and checks his watch. "Sunday, we've got to go now. We wouldn't want to be late." What he means to say is how much Louis wouldn't want to be late. Harry is aware of how over-emotional Louis has been these past few weeks due to his pregnancy, and crying over the little things was a big part of that. Harry would burn the cookies, he'd cry. Morrie would forget to pick up his legos, he'd cry. Liam would forget to bring his favourite cinnamon twists from a cafe on campus whenever he and Zayn would stop by for dinner, he'd cry, but being late to his graduation would surely cause a breakdown that Harry isn't ready for.

"Okay, baby, listen to daddy," Louis tells his son clutching his stuffie in his tiny hands. "Mama taught you how to count to ten yesterday, why don't you show daddy, hm?"

Morrie's blue eyes light up, he quickly runs across the room to his father who was standing by the dresser, holding a matching suit jacket and tiny clip-on tie.

"Daddy!"

"Yes, bean?" Harry drops to his knees. He listens with rapt attention as his son counts, and he calmly dresses Morrie in his tiny matching suit and is careful clipping on his tie because they hadn't had time to cut his hair, it was almost past his shoulders now.

Between working at the mechanic's down the street and being an assistant coach at Boston University, he still has time to play football for charity games since he was quite the star in Boston. In the past year, he's been interviewed countless times about his football career. He and Louis have talked about the future, Louis pushing him to take up his scouting opportunities—but Harry always says his family is more important and football can wait. Louis would sometimes cry because he would feel like he ruined Harry's career, Harry would cuddle him tightly which usually lead to slow lovemaking.

Harry still tries his best to keep up the tradition of going to the park for football with Liam and some of his old frat brothers who haven't moved too far. Louis would come sometimes if he weren't busy with school work or too lazy, Harry loved it when Louis came because he got to teach Morrie how to play football.

Louis was very iffy about his baby playing such a dangerous sport, which was a double standard since he found it absolutely hot when Harry did. Though, Harry would always reply with "_I turned out fine, what's the worst that could happen?_" and that would always lead to Louis thinking about the worst that could happen and having a near heart attack.

Little Morrie looked just like Louis but definitely had Harry's genes somewhere because Louis' family doesn't have curly hair, nor are any of them tall and have strangely long legs. Louis still remembers the pains of Morrie kicking around in his stomach over almost two years ago, no wonder he did because he was blessed with Harry's height. Which also meant he walked like a fawn when he was a few months old.

Louis gathers his belonging from his and Harry's room. He stares longingly at the soft plushy bed and fights the urge to curl up in the sheets and ditch his graduation. Aside from missing a major milestone in his life and career, he had one more reason to not take a nap, a particularly big reason.

"Sunday, don't rush yourself," Harry calls but it's futile as Louis waddle-runs down the hallway. He's trying to lock the door and balance Morrie's backpack and Louis' (secret) graduation present in his arms. "Morrie, go tell mama to slow down, please."

The young boy chases after his mother, almost tripping over his own feet and tugs hard on Louis' gown. "Ma! Stop!" He pulls harder, though Louis doesn't stop at all. Morrie's feet are gliding along the carpet. "Mama!"

Louis comes to an abrupt halt, his son crashing into his behind with an _oof_. Morrie stumbles back and feels himself be lifted up and recognizes the smell like his father. He wraps his arms around Harry's neck.

Harry was panting lowly. "Okay Sunday, let's go." He taps on Louis' shoulder.

"Can't," Louis turns around, his eyes pooling with tears and, here comes another breakdown. "Elevator's broken."

Harry would curse under his breath but Morrie's expanding vocabulary was like a sponge and he would get a good scolding from Louis if their son said a very colourful word. He sees the tears stream down Louis' red cheeks and cooed softly. "Oh, Sunday, don't worry. We'll take the stairs."

"I can't!" Louis stomps his foot, he knows he's acting childish in front of Morrie, who is an actual child and he should set a good example but he's upset. "I can't go downstairs without having an asthma attack!"

They don't arrive too late to Louis' graduation. Just in time for him to jump into the line to find his reserved seat. Harry and Morrie are happy to find Liam, Louis' parents and Harry's parents in the very front. They wave frantically upon seeing the tall man carrying a boy in a yellow suit.

"I was scared you weren't going to make it," Louis' mother says as Harry sits next to her, keeping Morrie in his lap. "We all know how fast Louis gets tired nowadays."

Everyone nods in agreement. They all knew the struggles of a pregnant Louis.

The graduation ceremony is quite boring in Harry's opinion. The stage is simple and black and absolutely an eyesore, the Dean gives a lousy speech Harry heard at his graduation a year prior and he can tell that everyone just wants to go home.

Though, when Louis' name is called, Harry stands and holds Morrie high in the air. "Go, mama!" The child's voice is so loud, another quality of Harry's he must've inherited, and Harry can hear a round of applause drowned out by his, his son's, Louis' parents, his own parents and Liam's screams and cheers.

Louis' red cheeks are visible from their seats, and Harry smiles brightly at him. He pulls a funny face causing Louis to burst into giggles while shaking hands with the Dean. Louis was glowing, he had that same pregnancy glow he had when he was with Morrie, and this time, since Harry's been sneaking more fruits and veggies into his food, he looked extremely healthy. Beautiful, plump and pregnant Louis, what a lovely sight it was.

"Good evening, graduating class, staff, and friends and family," Louis speaks into the microphone. "It's an honour to be your valedictorian this year, and I'd like to give my favourite professor, Joseph Night for his endless encouragement. My family and friends for their love and affection." He spots two familiar heads of curls in the crowd and focuses on the paper in his hands.

"I don't know about anyone else, but I read a lot, I've read countless stories that always involve a valedictorian speech. They all say the same thing. About how this is just the start. In all the stories I've read, they never talk about our humanity. It's always about overcoming challenges, maturing and finding our place in the world. They never tell you about the one and only thing you'll ever need. I can look into all of your eyes and see someone who is being pushed into a competitive society that forces them into a profession that they aren't sure of. You're all scared, terrified even. The earth is a beautiful place, you will come to learn how humans make it ugly. Those humans, in particular, are lacking humanity."

"Humanity is a powerful weapon. Being compassionate, honest, and generous sound easy but they are the hardest things to do. People always say that life is unfair, but it's us who are making it unfair. Humans are such complex creatures, you'd never think that they couldn't understand the simplicity of being nice to others. We lose sight that we are all the same, we all have insecurities and dreams. They never tell you that being vulnerable is okay, but I am now. It's okay to be vulnerable, it's okay to be unsure of yourself and depend on others. With everything the world is hurdling your way, you're going to need to know that it's best to show your emotions, and it's best to be yourself."

"My favourite poet, Charles Bukowski, once said, _'and if you have the ability to love, love yourself first'_. I think we all need to know that. Sometimes life has too many twists and turns, ups and downs and we forget that loving someone who isn't worthy of our love is a crime to our heart. We lose sight of our humanity, of what we deserve and what we do not. In the effortless beauty of the world, there's bound to be heartbreak. As we venture forth and conquer, we need to learn how to decipher what we want and what we need. You can want money, fame, lovers—but what you need is to know, know when something is no good for you, know when you deserve better, know how to catch yourself before you fall. Though sometimes, what we need is to fall—fall into a hole of sadness, love and fears. We need to fall to know how to climb out and come out victorious, it takes effort to let yourself fall but it takes true strength to pick yourself up again."

"I'll finish this speech and quote Journey's 1986 rock song, _"Be Good To Yourself"_ and tell each and every one of you to be good to yourself because if you are not, no one else will be."

"You know what would look really pretty on you?"

"Nothing?"

"Well, yes." Harry bites his lip, the thought of Louis naked made his pants tight. "But, how about a ring?"

Moments pass and they just stare at each other, swaying slowly underneath the moonlight. "Really, Harry? The night of graduation, as we slow dance to some piano song on your parent's backyard patio under the stars?"

"Louis, please!"

"Harry, you know the deal."

"Oh, come on!" Harry whines. "I've done it, what? It's got be ten times by now."

"Nine, actually." Louis hums. "Just last week, you asked me by hiring a band to play! Where did you even find them?"

"Craigslist."

Louis rolls his eyes, he wouldn't doubt Liam helped him out with that proposal. "What about the time you did it in the hot air balloon, could you be any more cliche?" Louis giggles. "What about that flashmob? I didn't know you could dance."

"I can't, I'm still really surprised you didn't dump me right then and there. I don't know any dance moves than these," Harry shimmies and does his signature pelvic thrust.

"I think you are a great dancer." Louis praises. "That doesn't make up for the lame excuse of asking or my hand in marriage while we were walking along that beach. I almost froze my fingers off!" Not really, but choosing to walk along a frozen beach in December was not a good idea.

"Why can't you just let me marry you?" Harry pouts, he's deeply offended every time he catches sight of the ring-less finger on Louis' hand.

"You still haven't done it in a way I haven't read before. C'mon, Harry, waking me up with breakfast in bed that says 'will you be the syrup to my pancake?', I've read that same proposal in about eight different romance novels."

"God," Harry groans. "Stop reading so much, I'm running out of ideas."

"You know what I want. I want a completely original, heartwarming and sweet proposal from you. I want it to be something never done before and it doesn't have to be big," he gives Harry a stern look because having a jumbotron fly across the Boston sky was far too expensive and extravagant for two people like them. "It has to mean something to us, just us."

It wasn't a secret that Harry loves splurging on his family. With vacations, toys for Morrie or new clothes and books for Louis—he felt very fortunate to be able to give his family what they want. Louis always pouted whenever Harry came home with presents for them, but he couldn't hide how relieving it felt to be financially stable. Especially since they're as young as they are and are currently raising a family, not many can say they're as successful as the Tomlinson-Styles (Harry and Louis couldn't decide whose name they loved more, Harry loved Louis' and Louis loved Harry's—they were bad with names, and Morrie didn't have a name for about fourteen weeks before they agreed).

"I'm getting tired of telling the staff at restaurants that I don't need their sympathy because this isn't the first—or last—time I've been rejected."

"For marriage."

Harry narrows his eyes. "I _will_ propose you one day and you _will_ say yes," He was determined. He glares at Louis, he looked just like Morrie. "And, we _will_ have a wedding and you _are_ going to be my husband."

Louis hears the deep rumble in Harry's voice. "Who knows, maybe you'll finally get it right when we're all grey and old sitting in a retirement home. Then, you'll have to wait fifteen minutes for me to walk down the aisle because my hips have lost to my ageing."

"Aha! Your ideal proposal is when we're old!"

"No, Harry!" Louis laughs loudly, it's such a wonderful sound to Harry's ears. He's so lucky he gets to hear it and also make Louis laugh. "I would like to get married when I don't need two people helping me walk down the aisle, I'd also wish to have a great honeymoon with you and not spend our honeymoon vacationing in some country club where we do bingo and attempt to play golf with our arthritis and wrinkling fingers."

"I'm going to fucking die before I get it right!"

Louis huffs. "If you die before marrying me, I'm going to shun you in the afterlife."

Harry holds his hands up in defense. "If I die before marrying you, I'd beg whoever will be there to kill me again."

"I don't think you can die twice. Double negative, that means you'll be alive again."

"Great! That means I'll have a whole other lifetime to figure out how to marry you." Harry taps his temple with a smirk on his face. "I'm getting closer to it, I can feel it."

"Nope," Louis licks his lips, looking up at the sky. "That was just rain."

The waterdrops become more frequent, pelting both boys on their heads and shoulders. Harry immediately crowds Louis, shielding him from the rain and ushering him inside. Louis wiggles out of his hold. "No!"

"Sunday," Harry feels it rain harder. "I don't want you getting sick, you're cooking our little bun!"

Louis pouts, his hair was all wet now and flat against his forehead. His sweater was a shade darker now, and the rain was dripping off the tip of his nose and his chin. "I've never danced in the rain, I want to dance." He's read it in so many novels, the intimacy and wetness of the rain was something he dreamt of.

"But our fugitive!" Harry exclaims, still trying to pull Louis to the door. "You aren't very good at harbouring our fugitive if they get sick."

Louis squeals when he's hauled off the ground and now uncomfortably propped on Harry's hip. His belly pressing against Harry's waist. "Let me dance, you oaf!"

Harry was only clumsy off the field, during a game he was a fluid ballerina but anywhere else, he was a baby deer. Harry slips on the wet patio, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Louis lands on top of him, sprawled over him like a blanket. They both groan collectively, Harry whines when Louis whacks him on the side of the head.

"Nice going, clumsy!" Louis rolls off him, laying on his back and closing his eyes as rain splats over his face. "I'm a delicate lilypad, you can't go carrying me around when you can barely walk yourself." He expects Harry to say something back, maybe take a few pokes at Louis' short height and how being pregnant makes him look even shorter but instead, the man stands shakily, holding the side of his head that must've collided with the patio.

"Fuck," Harry blinks, swaying. "My fucking head hurts."

Louis tries to stand but doesn't succeed, being pregnant made him struggle with even the simplest things. "Here, I'll get you some ice." He tries again, but he doesn't move an inch.

"N-No," Harry sways again, catching himself on the screen door, "No ice. I need... I need..."

Louis finally sits up by himself, and he's already panting, he tries to stand up. "What? What do you need?"

"I n-need you to m... marry me," Harry smiles lazily but immediately groans. "No, I need an... ambulance, my fucking head—" He collapses to the ground, well, it would have been the ground if he didn't fall left and tumble down the wooden stairs of the patio before crashing into the pavement.

Louis screams in absolute horror as Harry falls limp to the ground, not moving and face down on the concrete. He screams and cries for Harry's parents who bring Morrie and each of them is equally stunned to see Harry lying on the ground, looking particularly dead.

"He's in a coma."

Louis cries even harder, he sobs so loud that he's thankful Morrie was taken by Harry's parents to the cafeteria because he wouldn't like his son to see him in such distress. His son was worse, crying and begging to lie with Harry in the bed but Louis needed to speak with the doctor alone. Harry, his sweet loving boyfriend was in a coma because he's a clumsy mother fucker.

The doctor reads off the clipboard in his hands. "We're sorry to say this but Mr. Styles has a terminal case of Eli-Bach."

Louis is crying into Harry's barely moving body clad in an ugly hospital gown. He was connected to all sorts of tubes and had needles in his arm, and whatever that beeping machine was. Louis hated it. "W-What?" He weeps, clenching tight at Harry's arm. "Does he need treatment?"

"It can only be cured by you."

Louis was so confused and his heart was racing in his chest. He wipes his eyes, peppering kisses on Harry's arm as he stands, supporting his back with his hand. "Okay, does he need a transplant? I don't care what it is, take it from me and give it to him." He glances at Harry's body on the bed.

The doctor furrows his eyebrows. "He needs your hand."

Louis gapes, he quite liked his hands. "What does he need it for?" He looks down at Harry's hands, calloused and laying in his lap.

"Marriage."

One can expect the disbelief on Louis' face when his boyfriend in a so-called-coma surges up while holding a tiny rose gold ring with swirls of diamonds surrounding a huge one that shone in the white hospital lights. Louis' jaw is on the floor and he shoves Harry on the bed, staggering back into the arms of the doctor as if he's lost feeling in his legs because Harry literally rose from the dead.

Louis made a decision right then and there, he was going to fucking kill Harry. 

"How was that for a proposal?" Harry smirks, sitting back in the hospital bed as Louis hammers fists on his chest. "Bet you've never read a story with that kind of proposal before." The doctor had left the moment Louis landed the first punch on Harry's chest, sure he was a friend of the Styles' but he'd also like to keep his job.

"Because I don't read stories involving fucking psychos!" Louis was fuming, his fists were growing numb to the hard muscle of Harry's torso, but he didn't stop. "You're insane! How dare you do that to me! To Morrie!"

Harry catches his hands, holding them as Louis struggles to break free. "Oh, you were the only one being deceived, Sunday. Our son is a talented actor."

Louis stops squirming and plants his face in Harry's stomach, he screams loudly, letting out all his frustration. He screams until his throat is raw and his eyes are watering. He doesn't stop screaming when a few nurses wander in, he knows Harry shoos them away and he continues screaming until he feels significantly lighter. Unsatisfied with his way of relief, he bites Harry's stomach, particularly hard considering the yelp the man lets out.

Harry frowns, pulling Louis up by his hair. "Keep your chompers to yourself, mister."

"No." Louis mirrors him, frowning deeply. "I hate you! You made me think you were going to die!"

"I think of it as an art performance. Art comes in many forms, Sunday."

"Yes, but they don't involve putting me through hell!" Louis goes back to punching Harry's chest, hoping to stop his heart but not really. "You- I," He gasps, "You are in so much fucking trouble."

Harry smiles sweetly, his dimples making an appearance. "Before you ground me, can you tell me if you will give me your hand," he winks, "for the cure of my illness called Eli-Bach?"

Louis cries, reaching out and pinching Harry's nipple. "I hate you! Go away!"

"Hate is a very strong word." Harry hums. "Eli as in _eligible _and bach as in _bachelor. _Eli-Bach as in _eligible bachelor_."

"You are the most horrible person alive!"

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with this horrible person?"

Louis huffs in anger, snatching the ring from Harry's hand and slipping it on his finger. "There! Happy!" He shoves his hand in Harry's face. "I hate you so much."

"Looks even better than it did in the box for the past two years," Harry breathes dreamily.

Louis, in his fit of anger, straddles Harry's lap, he's surprised he got on the bed by himself. Louis glares down at his now fiancé, planting his hands on each of Harry's pecks. "You had to fake falling into a coma for me to marry you, ugly Harry."

Harry giggles at the use of the nickname he's grown to adore, Louis only used it when he was being a particular asshole, which was now.

"Wait, an eligible bachelor is someone who is rich and handsome." Louis voices his thoughts, much calmer now. "A desirable person, you see yourself like that?"

Harry hums, resting his hands on Louis' squishy hips, He loved how much weight Louis has put on since they met, he used to be so tiny, now since he's the mother of one/soon to be mother of two and Harry doesn't stop feeding him until he's going to throw up, he's gained quite the weight. He was delicious, Harry was in love. "Considering the size of that ring on your finger, I'd say I'm pretty well off at the moment and taking into account how many times you've woken me up to do naughty activities, I'd say I'm quite desirable."

Louis shifts on Harry's lap, feeling the man's not-so-little friend perk up in the interest of Louis' bottom being so close. "What about handsome?"

"Hm," Harry bites his lip, hair fanning around his head nicely. "I have a son named Morrie, you might know him, he's a very, very gorgeous little fellow. I'd say my genes carry a fair amount of good looks." That earns him a pouty Louis, Harry cooed. "But, of course, my fiancé—I love how that sounds by the way—did an extraordinary job at creating that little human. I guess he deserves some credit as well."

Louis rolls his eyes, feeling a strike of confidence. "You know, I've never done it in a hospital before."

Harry smirks. "You wanna do something dirty?" He was really asking him that while clad in a hospital gown and nasal cannula on his face.

Louis' face heats up. "Don't say it like that!" He accidentally grinds down on Harry's hardening crotch, the man groans. "We can't. Your parents and Morrie will be coming back soon."

"No need to worry, I told them they could go home after getting here since, after that stunt, I was sure I was going to need to spend the night at the hospital. I thought you'd stab me or something." Harry shrugs.

Louis, if he weren't motivated by the faint thrust of Harry's hips against his ass, he would probably get emotional again over the fact that Harry had faked falling into a coma. Instead, he lets himself be laid out on the tiny hospital bed and watches Harry winces as he removes all tubes and needles from his body before shutting the room door and the blinds.

Harry still took lots of care of his body, going to the gym or a run when there was time or just working out in their bedroom. He seemed to always do it on a day when Louis felt horny, leading to the both of them in a mess in their bedsheets and Morrie taking a longer nap than necessary.

Louis absentmindedly licks his lips, Harry was so fit after these years. He lies back and enjoys the show as Harry slips off the gown revealing his tight boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

Louis nods. "Love it." He makes grabby hands and sighs in content when Harry crawls over him and their lips meet. His hands touch every tattoo of Harry's, the butterfly, swallows, the rose, ship, and the incredibly hot ferns. He taps on the quite large "_Morrie_" inked on Harry's back, he was there when Harry got it and again, watching Harry get a tattoo had Louis tackling him the moment they got into the car. It's harder than one would think to have sex in a car with your pregnant boyfriend but they succeeded.

Harry's muscles flex as he sits back, shifting them into a more comfortable position and tearing Louis' sweater off his body. Louis whimpers as soon as Harry's lips attach to his sensitive nipples. Harry groans, grinding his cock down between Louis' legs as milk splashes onto his tongue. They haven't done this in a while, ever since Morrie grew attached to Louis, it was impossible for Harry to ruck up his shirt and suck on his nipples. He didn't regret it one bit and praised Louis almost every day for even suggesting it because they had grown swollen when he was pregnant with Morrie and he needed relief.

Harry massages the other breast with his free hand, swirling his tongue around Louis' nipple before lightly tugging on it.

"Harry," Louis moans, he's always been so loud during sex, it was hot in most cases but other times Harry would have to fuck him with a pair of panties in his mouth to muffle the screams.

Harry moves to the other breast, giving it the same treatment and grunting when Louis slips a hand into his boxers, wrapping around his cock. The man thrusts shallowly into Louis' wet hand, he remembers hearing Louis spit into his hand while feasting on his milk, Harry was kinky, sue him.

"Taste so good, darlin'," Harry mutters, licking up the other breast that had started to leak with his constant massaging. "Gonna dream of this tonight," Harry was talking nonsense whenever he got his mouth on Louis, "dream of how you tasted, baby."

"Yeah?" Louis speeds up his hand, loving how heavy Harry felt in his hand. Harry was so big, he towered over Louis and could carry him anywhere. His cock was huge, girthy and long, Louis cried the first time they had sex which ended with Harry worriedly pulling out and refusing to have sex until he stretched Louis out with four of his fingers. Now, after two years, Louis' learned to love the stretch. Especially with a kid, they learned that foreplay wasn't always an option, most times they skipped it and it leads to Louis limping for the next two days.

Today, Louis wanted to fucking limp or even crawl. Harry turned him into a fairly kinky man too, it was bound to happen.

"Want me to stretch you out, Sunday?" Harry makes quick work of stripping Louis of all his clothes, longingly staring at the lilac lace panties. "Just put my cock in you, know you love it." Harry is in the middle of searching Louis' bag for lube when he hears footsteps approaching, he freezes, not moving until they pass. He'd rather not get caught until he's got in cock in Louis.

"Want to suck you off," Louis pushes off the bed and on his back, it was the only position that Harry could fuck his mouth without his knees growing sore. He licks his lips as Harry jerks himself.

"You're so lovely, baby." Harry's eyes trail over Louis' cock hard in his panties and his big belly, fuck, he loved that belly. He loved seeing Louis pregnant, all full of him. His gaze falls onto Louis' wide open mouth, Harry shuffles on the bed and taps the tip of his cock on Louis' tongue. "You want it, Sunday?"

"Want it bad, Harry. Give it to me."

Harry growls, sending his cock down Louis' throat because of course, Louis' voice could make him hard in seconds. He feels Louis' throat expand for him, the warmth and the tightness making him jerk roughly, causing Louis to gag.

Louis would do anything for Harry, no doubt there. He was ecstatic when he found out about Harry's kinks, like lace, role-play and even his weird ones like his domestic kink (whatever that was, Louis still wasn't sure) and his pregnancy kink. Louis moans around Harry's cock, feeling the man thrust slowly into his mouth. Harry's hands rub over Louis' throat, watching as his cock slid down and up again, and Louis' pretty skin turn rose and pink without any oxygen.

Harry pulls out, only to slap his cock on Louis' cheek, smearing his precum and the boy's saliva. "I love you," he says, breathing heavily as Louis chases his dick with his parted lips.

"Love you too." Louis' hand reaches down and fishes his cock out of his panties.

Harry bites his lip. He feeds his cock back down Louis' throat and thrusts harder, determined to make Louis' eyes glassy like the first time he fucked his throat. "Touch yourself, baby." Harry's fingers toy with Louis' swollen nipples, taking a drop of milk and pulling out of Louis' mouth only to shove his finger down his throat.

Harry's cock was wet and an angry red, bobbing high against his lower stomach and a bubble of precum drips down the edge. Louis lets out a frustrated cry, he hated when Harry's release went to waste, hence how quick he got pregnant after having Morrie. Harry teases him, letting him lick around the tip of his cock, watching his tiny hand furiously jerk himself between his legs. Louis' tongue circles and swirls around the bulbous head of Harry's cock until he pulls away.

Harry maneuvers Louis easily. Putting the pregnant man on his hands and knees and stuffing a pillow under his stomach to keep him propped up. He'd rather fuck Louis face to face but they were in a rush and doggy style was the only way that Harry could fuck him and touch him all over while keeping them on their strict time crunch. The nurse was scheduled to come in soon to ask Harry if he was going to stay.

Harry rips off Louis' panties, wrinkling up the lace and tossing it aside. He probably shouldn't have done that since Louis was always screaming in the doggy style. Oh well, he'll just have to cover his mouth himself.

Harry lazily fingers at Louis' hole with some lube, tapping on the rim before pushing two fingers in. Louis moans high, his fingers clenching the white bedsheet. Harry's fingers were skilled, bringing Louis to edge and back every time they fooled around. He knew how to make Louis whine and cry with a few movements, and just skim his prostate until Louis begged for release.

Harry was sure he didn't deserve anything he had. He didn't do anything remotely worthy of receiving such loving friends, beautiful son and stable life. Most of all, he didn't deserve Louis.

Louis was surely an angel sent from heaven, his own personal sunshine of relief for his worst days. Even after how horribly he treated Louis—he took him back. Harry thanked every star and planet in the universe that Louis and he are still together. They were going strong and it was everything he could ever wish for. He feels it, the heat erupting in his chest and Harry never got emotional but his vision goes blurry.

As if he knew, Louis twists around. He gasps, seeing the tears pooling in Harry's eyes and immediately scrambles to plant himself on Harry's lap. "Oh, baby." He peppers small kisses on Harry's face. "What's wrong?" His motherly instincts were kicking in.

Harry laughs when Louis licks his nose. He wanted to live in Louis' heart and call it home. "I really love you. I haven't ever cried during sex but you're all I've ever dreamed of. You're so kind to me, you put up with me, you listen to me—you still love me after everything I did."

Louis continues kissing Harry's face as he rambles on and on.

"I can't think of anything without you popping into my mind, you've completely taken over me. You're my entire world, you're my stars and my air—I'm sure the sun is jealous of how bright you are." Harry giggles when Louis' eyelashes tickle his cheek. "I'll do anything for you. You're all I would ever want, all I'll ever need and I wouldn't change it for a thing."

They both knew how hard it was for Harry to depend on Louis, especially after how ruined he was when they split. Louis was the same, he didn't like depending on Harry but they both understood that it was okay to depend on each other. That was how relationships work. Even though they've got a family, they're still working out the crooks in their relationship. And now they've got the rest of their lives to do that.

"Sunday, I love you—" Harry is cut off by a grown because, in the middle of his love confession, Louis decided to sit on his cock. He immediately leans back but cranes his neck to see Louis' hips move. "Fuck." He feels Louis clench around him.

"Sorry, baby. I couldn't wait." Louis breathes heavily, moving slowly and sensually on Harry, his hands are cradled around his belly. With the extra weight, he rides Harry a little hard and the faint sound of skin slapping echoes through the room.

Harry grinds his teeth. "So fucking beautiful, Sun." A faint layer of sweat has ghosted over their skin, a glimmer in the white hospital lights. "So—fuck—squishy." He proves his point by squeezing Louis' hips before moving to his ass.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Stop calling me that." He plants one hand on Harry's chest, leaning over to speed up his movements. Harry was lucky today because Louis only rode him when he had cravings and was horny so he could eat and get dicked down at the same time.

Harry's member was heavy inside Louis, he was stretching him out in a way that made both of them addicted to the pain. Louis' chest flushed red, his cheeks mirroring the cherry and his lips raw bitten from his teeth. Harry stares up at him, watching with a lax jaw and lust-filled eyes. Louis was so tight around him, and the temperature in the room had undoubtedly risen.

Louis speeds up, his ass colliding with Harry's thighs and cock bobbing under his belly. He can feel the burn of Harry's cock in his not-prepped hole—a pain he's learned to love. He could only wish Harry had enough time to open him up with his fingers and tongue. Louis moans at the thought, Harry's mouth was a nightmare between his legs. If he imagined it hard enough, feel Harry's tongue circling his rim and his fingers pressing into his hole.

Harry loves how warm Louis felt, how his ass would slap against his thighs with every drop. He groans. "Love you, love you." He mutters, tightening his hold. Louis was so tight around him, a deadly vice grip. "Mhm, you're hungry for me, Sun." He clenches his teeth, thrusting up into Louis' hole.

Louis squeals, hands bracing himself on the bed. He leans forward, letting Harry ram into him. The heat raised between their bodies—Harry's nails piercing into Louis' ass cheeks and his abs flexing with the power behind his thrusts.

Louis bites his lip so hard that he tastes blood, he breathes heavily. "Harry, Harry," he whimpers when Harry's mouth circles around his nipple. He whines loud when Harry's teeth scrape it, a wave of pleasure washed over his body. Harry continues working him and releases his nub, Louis messily mouthing at his neck.

"Gonna mark me up, darling?" Harry asks breathlessly as Louis' teeth scrape along the skin of his neck. He tilts his head, offering himself up for Louis and he latches on. 

Louis' heart is beating hard in his chest, hammering against his ribs as he nears his release. Harry's cock hitting his spot head-on and without a flatter in his hips. Louis would feel quite embarrassed since he was nearing his finish so early, but pregnancy had his hormones out of balance.

"C'mon, darling," Harry reaches far and circles one of his finger along Louis' rim, his cock stretching it. "Cum all over us, know you can do it." Harry has a front-row seat to Louis spurting all over his stomach. 

Louis' head falls back and the sweat drips down his jaw and neck to the dip of his collarbones. Harry groans especially loud when Louis tightens around him, sucking the life out of him. Harry yanks Louis down by his neck, their lips meeting in a mess of saliva and tongue, Louis whimpering as Harry uses his body for his own release. Harry tugs on Louis' bottom lip with his teeth, his body erupts in pleasure and he gives a few longing thrusts in Louis' hole, his mind falling to pieces when he feels his cum leaking out of Louis and down his cock.

They pull away, a string of saliva has Harry sitting up to kiss Louis again. His cock shifts inside of Louis, the latter scratching his nails down the sweet expanse of Harry's back. Harry's muscles flex as he shifts them around again, crowding over Louis to keep his cock nestled in his hole. "Wanna get you pregnant again," Harry whispers against Louis' lips, ignoring the cool breeze of the air conditioner on his sweaty skin.

"Can't," Louis musters up the strength to push Harry away, he wiggles. "you already knocked me up."

Harry glares softly. "Damn right I did." He always got neanderthal-ish after sex, his brain filled with nothing but raising a big family with Louis, seeing Louis all plump and pregnant waddling around their house, and fucking Louis' brains out until he's pregnant again.

Louis doesn't find Harry's softening cock uncomfortable per se, but he was fearful of someone walking in on them. "At least cover me up, I still have a modesty to uphold."

Harry laughs, wrapping them tightly in the sheets, and spooning Louis from behind. He spreads his hand over the bump of his tummy, smiling when he gets a few flutters in reply. "The bun is up," he taps lightly across it. "We haven't thought of any names yet."

"I'm too tired," Louis whines, shuffling closer to Harry as a wave of cold air hits his heated skin. 

"This baby will have a name as soon as they're out," Harry nuzzles in Louis' hair. "We aren't going to be indecisive again."

"Whatever, you just want to get me pregnant again."

"I do," Harry confirms without a beat. He nibbles Louis' ear, basking in the boy's giggles. "I can't wait to marry you. I've been waiting for two fucking years, I can't believe you made me wait that long."

Louis clasps their hands over his belly, he loves Harry's calloused fingers. "Don't make me take back my yes."

Harry's body goes rigid, he pulls out of Louis despite the cum that pools out. He flips Louis over and stares him down, hard. "You can't do that!"

"Oh, but I can." Louis narrows his eyes, the blue was striking against his tan skin. "Maybe that velvet box is lonely and needs his friend back." He proves his point by tracing the shiny ring on his finger. 

Harry glares even harder, his lips turn downwards in a frown. "You wouldn't..."

"Watch me," Louis starts to slip off the ring but Harry grabs both his hands, pinning them above his head. 

Louis' hard tummy is pressing against Harry's abs, and he's careful with his weight over his little love. "Don't do that to me, Sunday, please?" Harry pouts.

"Convince me."

"I just want to marry you." A part of Harry actually believes Louis would take back his 'yes' and they'd be boyfriends again, the other part of Harry wasn't sure if that was possible. "I want to plan a small wedding with you, watch you walk down the asile—I'd probably cry," his voice goes soft and he loosens his grip on Louis' wrists, "I want to say my vows that I've had written for over two years, I want to kiss you in front of our families and set off on a honeymoon, just us."

"I just want us to be together forever," the tears are back, and Harry sniffles. "Sometimes I think forever isn't even long enough." He bites his lip, one of his tears fall and lands on Louis' cheek. The man is watching him intently, blue eyes peering at him gently. "No, forever isn't long enough at all."

"I want you longer than forever, Sunday." It was simple like this, just two men staring at each other, eyes telling more than their lips. It was raw, and caressing their souls. "I don't deserve any part of you yet you gave it to me. You let me have you, nothing could compare to how you make me feel."

Louis sniffles too. His blues mirroring the same glassiness. "You're going to make me cry, Harry."

Harry bites his lip, laughing through his silent tears. "I just want to tell you how I feel, Sun... Make you feel my sweet love." He plants delicate kisses on Louis' cheeks. He pulls away and licks one of Louis' tears. "I can't thank you enough for being in my life."

"There is not a person in the world who could give me what you did, the love, the warmth, our family, and one last chance." Harry lowers his voice. "The only chance I'll ever need."

Louis' throat was tight, he was willing himself not to cry. He didn't want to ruin this moment with his ugly tears. Harry would argue Louis was beautiful, even when he cried.

"You know, I think my heart loved you before the rest of me was ready. My heart saw you and it fell in love, dragged me down with it too. It didn't want me to forget you, I'm glad my heart is stubborn. My heart wanted you so badly, Sun. And now, all parts of me are dancing--they're dancing for you." Harry moves one of his hands to trace over Louis' freckles. The shadows cast over Louis' features. "I think everyone has a place where they belong, a place to call home..." His tone goes raspy with how low he was talking. "And, I know you're my home." Those blue eyes, curved brows, button nose and pink lips were his home. Feathery hair that was always a mess was his home. Littered teacups and scattered novels around their apartment were his home. Everything, it was all home and it was all Louis.

"Harry," Louis sniffles, the tears falling from his sad blue eyes. "Harry." He mutters again, unable to say anything else. 

"Oh, Sunday." Harry soothes, "I could hold you for the rest of my life and it wouldn't be long enough." He laughs softly at Louis' cute scrunched up face. "You make all the other days of the week bland, Sunday."

"Harry," Louis was crying harder now. "No..." He clenches his teeth to quiet his sobs.

"Hm," Harry hums, dragging a fingertip over Louis' cupid's bow. "Love it when you cry for me, love it when you feel exactly how I feel, love it even more when you're speechless and just cry." He taps along Louis' pouty bottom lip. "So lovely, Sunday, when you cry. So soft. I get the honour of drying these tears, don't I?"

"H-Harry," Louis' entire face is red and it fades down his neck. "No more." Louis loved Harry. Though Harry was sickeningly sweet and he loved making Louis cry from telling him sweet things.

"You're the dream I never knew I had." Harry nuzzles their noses. "I think if I loved you anymore, I'd explode into dust. I'd do anything for you, Sunday. You've got my heart on its knees and my soul in your hands, I know you'll treat them nice, yeah?" Harry smiles a little.

"S-Stop it," Louis hiccups. 

"I'll never stop, Sun." Harry licks Louis' cheek, tasting the salty tears. "I'll never stop telling you these things. You're so soft, Sunday, soft people deserve soft things."

Louis gives up, heavy sobs puff from between his lips and he cries. His tears fall faster down the sides of his face and to the corner of his lips. Harry has the pleasure of watching him fall apart like this, to cry from Harry's loving words, his words that will never amount to how he feels about Louis. It was unfair to not be able to say how one feels, but Harry could try. Harry will try.

Harry was in love. He could feel it bursting at the seams, and his bones shattering under the weight of his heart. "I want everyone to know how much I love you. I'll tell every person and every animal. I'll whisper to every flower so when they bloom they will tell every bee. I'll scream it to the oceans so every time a wave comes crashing in, it will tell everything it touches. I'll write it in the sand of every beach so anyone flying will know. I'll carve it into every tree so every little bug will know. I'll spell it out in the sky with clouds in case if I missed anyone. I'll annoy every star in space. The universe will hate me afterward but it's worth it to tell everyone and everything how much you mean to me, Sunday."

Louis was crying now, he was gnawing on his lip to keep his sobs at bay. Harry kisses him slowly, tugging his lip free and his tears falling into the wetness on Louis' face. Their kiss is tender and shy, lips moving easy and Louis' hands move to cup Harry's jaw. Harry cries harder into their kiss when Louis' tranquil fingertips trace over his skin. It was lovely to do this. In the hospital in the busy city of Boston on the night of Louis' graduation. Harry loved it. He was addicted to Louis and everything the man had to offer. Harry was shining in Louis' rays, he has been out of the dark and in the light and in that light was Louis, was home. He didn't mind the pain of loving someone so much that he's crying for them and they're holding him. 

It was good to be like this. It was good to shine. It was good to be vulnerable. It was good to be human.

_"I could make you happy, make your dreams come true_  
There's nothing that I wouldn't do  
_ Go to the ends of this Earth for you_  
_ To make you feel my love, oh yes_  
_ To make you feel my love"_ **— Adele, Make You Feel My Love**

**FIN.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again. thank you so much for reading this. i hope you enjoyed it. i feel accomplished after finishing this fic. please tell me your thoughts !
> 
> p.s. i'll admit it, i seem to always come back to this fic to write more and more, sweet things-always sweet things. i'll stop sometime, don't worry those hearts of yours.
> 
> Twitter: oflarryent :^)
> 
> PROMPT:  
Harry is a football captain and the absolute star oh his University and Louis is a bookworm and his secret boyfriend since Harry is petrified of coming out because his image is everything to him(he kinda is a self centered douche at the beginning as it usually goes) , Louis is really bothered by it but at the end of the day he loves Harry and it's not like uni is gonna last forever, 2 more years and they are free so it's fine,he can wait. That all changes when Louis discovers hes pregnant and Harry handles is absolutely horribly so he says some awful things, they fight and Louis sends him to hell and leaves. When Harry realizes what he did and that he lost the person he loves the most he's left with guilt (and bloody nose, a curtsy from his co captain Liam) that makes him realize that he really needs to change and do everything to get Louis back and make him trust Harry and believe him that he's gonna do literally anything for their little family


End file.
